String Quartet in E flat major Op.74 “Harp” (1809)

The “Harp” nickname aptly draws attention to the prominent use of pizzicato in the Allegro section of the first movement. The work is remarkable for its colouring elsewhere too, not least in the sonorously seductive scoring applied to the main theme of the Adagio on each of its reappearances. The Presto, on the other hand, is a passionately impetuous expression of anger. The passion does subside, however, and by the end is reconciled into leading directly into the agreeably graceful melody at the opening of the Allegretto finale, which takes the form of a theme and six variations culminating in a brilliant coda.

The “Harp” is one of the most attractive and yet one of the least frequently performed of Beethoven’s string quartets. If there is a problem with the work it is the apparent rift between the luxuriant Adagio and the fierce Presto – a rift which possibly reflects an uncomfortable hiatus in the life of the composer, who sketched the work before Napoleon’s attack on Vienna in the spring of 1809 but was unable to complete it until hostilities were over in the autumn.

Unless it is in the harmonically uneasy slow introduction, the first movement offers no hint of exterior turbulence. Far from it: the main Allegro section is so consistenly and so disarmingly colourful in its use of pizzicato that the frequently prominent sound of plucked strings has earned the work its “Harp” nickname. It is first heard, starting on cello and viola, immediately after the entry of the main theme on first violin. It is not just colouring either. The pizzicato arpeggios assume the status of a theme in themselves, returning in the development section and not only in the recapitulation but also in the dramatically eventful coda.

The slow movement could scarcely be more peaceful. Its main feature is the lovely lyrical melody which is introduced by first violin in the opening bars and which is twice recalled on the same instrument. With each recall the texture is more and more sonorous. In the first, the violin is accompanied by an elaborate pattern of arpeggios on the three lower instruments. In the second, it carries the melody on the G-string between radiantly delicate staccato figuration on the other violin and plucked arpeggios on the viola over an off-beat bass line on the cello. There are intervening episodes devoted to different material, the first with positively regretful minor harmonies, but the mood of recollection in tranquillity is retained throughout.

After an Adagio like that, a direct contrast is only to be expected. The following Presto, however, is not just a vigorous scherzo but a passionately impetuous expression of anger – in the same key (C minor) and with much the same “fate knocking at the door” rhythm as at the beginning of the recently completed Fifth Symphony. This material alternates with passages in a theoretically more congenial key (C major) which, far from relaxing the pressure, sustain it at an even faster pace in an un-nuanced counterpoint of aggressive scale figures and the firmly drawn longer notes of a cantus firmus.

There is, however, no rift between the Presto and the rest of the work. While that movement might reflect something of Beethoven’s experience in a Vienna under bombardment, the passion does gradually subside. By the end it is reconciled to leading, without a pause, into the agreeably graceful theme at the opening of the Allegretto finale. Characterised by its three-note phrases in the same dotted rhythm, the new theme is to be the subject of six variations each one of which assumes a different rhythmic identity – including the viola’s supple line of triplets in the expressive second variation – until the tempo is accelerated over an impatient ostinato bass in the sixth variation and accelerated twice more in a brilliant coda.

The “Harp” is one of the most attractive and yet one of the least frequently performed of Beethoven’s string quartets. If there is a problem with the work it is the apparent rift between the luxuriant Adagio and the fierce Presto – a rift which possibly reflects an uncomfortable hiatus in the life of the composer, who sketched the work before Napoleon’s attack on Vienna in the spring of 1809 but was unable to complete it until hostilities were over in the autumn.

Unless it is in the harmonically uneasy slow introduction, the first movement offers no hint of exterior turbulence. Far from it: the main Allegro section is so consistenly and so disarmingly colourful in its use of pizzicato that the frequently prominent sound of plucked strings has earned the work its “Harp” nickname. It is first heard, starting on cello and viola, immediately after the entry of the main theme on first violin. It is not just colouring either. The pizzicato arpeggios assume the status of a theme in themselves, returning in the development section and not only in the recapitulation but also in the dramatically eventful coda.

The slow movement could scarcely be more peaceful. Its main feature is the lovely lyrical melody which is introduced by first violin in the opening bars and which is twice recalled on the same instrument. With each recall the texture is more and more sonorous. In the first, the violin is accompanied by an elaborate pattern of arpeggios on the three lower instruments. In the second, it carries the melody on the G-string between radiantly delicate staccato figuration on the other violin and plucked arpeggios on the viola over an off-beat bass line on the cello. There are intervening episodes devoted to different material, the first with positively regretful minor harmonies, but the mood of recollection in tranquillity is retained throughout.

After an Adagio like that, a direct contrast is only to be expected. The following Presto, however, is not just a vigorous scherzo but a passionately impetuous expression of anger – in the same key (C minor) and with much the same “fate knocking at the door” rhythm as at the beginning of the recently completed Fifth Symphony. This material alternates with passages in a theoretically more congenial key (C major) which, far from relaxing the pressure, sustain it at an even faster pace in an un-nuanced counterpoint of aggressive scale figures and the firmly drawn longer notes of a cantus firmus.

There is, however, no rift between the Presto and the rest of the work. Before the end of that movement the passion gradually subsides until it is reconciled to leading without a pause into the agreeably graceful theme which begins the closing Allegretto. Characterised by its three-note phrases in the same dotted rhythm, that theme is to be the subject of six variations each one of which assumes a different rhythmic identity – including the viola’s supple line of triplets in the expressive second variation – until the tempo is accelerated over an impatient ostinato bass in the sixth variation and accelerated twice more in a brilliant coda.

The “Harp” is one of the most attractive and yet one of the least frequently performed of Beethoven’s string quartets. If there is a problem with the work it is the apparent rift between the luxuriant Adagio and the fierce Presto – a rift which possibly reflects an uncomfortable hiatus in the life of the composer, who sketched the work before Napoleon’s attack on Vienna in the spring of 1809 but was unable to complete it until hostilities were over in the autumn.

Unless it is in the harmonically uneasy slow introduction, the first movement offers no hint of exterior turbulence. Far from it: the main Allegro section is so consistently and so disarmingly colourful in its use of pizzicato that the frequently prominent sound of plucked strings has earned the work its “Harp” nickname. It is not just colouring. The pizzicato arpeggios assume the status of a theme in themselves, returning in the development section and not only in the recapitulation but also in the dramatically eventful coda.

The slow movement could scarcely be more peaceful. Its main feature is the lovely lyrical melody which is introduced by first violin in the opening bars and which is twice recalled on the same instrument. With each recall the texture is more and more sonorous. In the first, the violin is accompanied by an elaborate pattern of arpeggios on the three lower instruments. In the second, it carries the melody on the G-string between radiantly delicate staccato figuration on the other violin and plucked arpeggios on the viola over an off-beat bass line on the cello. There are intervening episodes devoted to different material, the first with positively regretful minor harmonies, but the mood of recollection in tranquillity is retained throughout.

After an Adagio like that, a direct contrast is only to be expected. The following Presto, however, is not just a vigorous scherzo but a passionately impetuous expression of anger – in the same key (C minor) and with much the same “fate knocking at the door” rhythm as at the beginning of the recently completed Fifth Symphony. This material alternates with passages in a theoretically more congenial key (C major) which, far from relaxing the pressure, sustain it at an even faster pace in an un-nuanced counterpoint of aggressive scale figures and the firmly drawn longer notes of a cantus firmus.

There is, however, no rift between the Presto and the rest of the work. While that movement might reflect something of Beethoven’s experience in a Vienna under bombardment, the passion does gradually subside. By the end it is reconciled to leading, without a pause, into the agreeably graceful theme at the opening of the Allegretto finale. Characterised by its three-note phrases in the same dotted rhythm, the new theme is to be the subject of six variations each one of which assumes a different rhythmic identity – including the viola’s supple line of triplets in the expressive second variation – until the tempo is accelerated over an impatient ostinato bass in the sixth variation and accelerated twice more in a brilliant coda.