String Trio in G major, Op.9, No.1 (1798)

Successful though they were – Beethoven himself considered them his best scores so far, and he was well paid for them – the three String Trios Op.9 were the last works of their kind he was to write. By the time they were published he was probably already thinking about his first set of String Quartets and, as far as chamber music for strings was concerned, that was the area that was to occupy his exclusive attention for the rest of his life. It would be wrong, however, to assume that the string trios were just a preparation for the string quartets. On the contrary: the textural problems, and the solutions, are quite different, as Beethoven confirmed in the last of the Op.9 set, No.3 in C minor, which so successfully treats the three instruments more or less as soloists – a principle that cannot be applied to the string quartet. In Op.9 No.1 in G major he seems to be working towards that idea even if he does not apply it as thoroughly as in (what one takes to be) the later score in C minor.

From the impressive opening on all three instruments in fortissimo octaves, the Adagio introduction is alive with speculative activity. Just before the change of tempo, the violin lights on a little phrase which it then presents as the opening gesture of the Allegro con brio. Apparently designed to lead into more important material, it shrinks into insignificance on the entry of the main theme on a sonorous double-stopped G-major chord on the cello. The second subject is in two parts, a miniature march eerily harmonised in D minor and a happier theme in D major on violin. The development, however, is firmly focused on the first subject – not omitting the the little phrase that so modestly introduced it. Strangely, the main theme is omitted from the recapitulation, although it does reappear on the cello in the coda.

While the slow movement clearly favours the violin – which introduces both the tenderly expressive first subject in E major in the opening bars and the quietly intimate second subject in B minor – it is no less beautifully scored for that. There is an eloquent dialogue for violin and viola between the exposition of those themes and when he comes to the recapitulation, far from sacrificing spontaneity to regularity, Beethoven replaces that exchange with a comparatively dramatic episode instigated by a worried cello. In the Scherzo the melodic interest is shared fairly evenly between violin on the one hand and viola and cello on the other, which enhances the congenial atmosphere even if it does not much advance the cause of democracy. Besides, no one goes short of attention in the Presto finale, which is all-inclusive in the exuberance of its virtuoso scoring.

Successful though they were – Beethoven himself considered them his best scores so far, and he was well paid for them – the three String Trios Op.9 were the last works of their kind he was to write. By the time they were published he was probably already thinking about his first set of String Quartets and, as far as chamber music for strings was concerned, that was the area that was to occupy his exclusive attention for the rest of his life. It would be wrong, however, to assume that the string trios were just a preparation for the string quartets. On the contrary: the textural problems, and the solutions, are quite different, as Beethoven confirmed in the last of the Op.9 set, No.3 in C minor, which so successfully treats the three instruments more or less as soloists – a principle that cannot be applied to the string quartet. In Op.9 No.1 in G major he seems to be working towards that idea even if he does not apply it as thoroughly as in (what one takes to be) the later score in C minor. The viola might enjoy less virtuoso prominence than the cello here and the cello less than the violin but they are all kept very busy.

From the impressive opening on all three instruments in fortissimo octaves, the Adagio introduction is alive with speculative activity. By no means all of it is relevant to the long-term structure but, just before the change of tempo, the violin does light on a little phrase which it then presents as the opening gesture of the Allegro con brio. Although that phrase seems to be designed to lead into more important material, the intervention of a few more bars of energetic if not entirely relevant activity makes the introduction of the main theme on a sonorous double-stopped G-major chord on the cello all the more striking. The second subject is in two parts, a miniature march eerily harmonised in D minor and a happier theme in D major on violin. In spite of the diversionary activity that follows before the end of the exposition, the development is firmly focused on the first subject, the little phrase that so modestly introduced it no less than the cello theme itself. Strangely, however, the main theme is omitted from the recapitulation. Although it does reappear on the cello in the coda, it is in quite the wrong key, requiring still more activity to put things harmonically right.

While the slow movement clearly favours the violin – which introduces both the tenderly expressive first subject in E major in the opening bars and the quietly intimate second subject in B minor – it is no less beautifully scored for that. There is an eloquent dialogue for violin and viola between the exposition of those themes and when he comes to the recapitulation, far from sacrificing spontaneity to regularity, Beethoven replaces that exchange with a comparatively dramatic episode instigated by a worried cello.

In the Scherzo the melodic interest is shared fairly evenly between violin on the one hand and viola and cello on the other, which enhances the congenial atmosphere even if it does not much advance the cause of democracy. Besides, no one goes short of attention in the Presto finale, which is all-inclusive in the exuberance of its scoring. The violin leads the way but the entry of the viola an octave below the soaring second subject on violin and the pre-Mendelssohn staccato articulation in even quavers on all three instruments at the close of the exposition are both rare inspirations. The hyper-activity of the contrapuntal textures at the start of the development is most effectively offset by an episode mysteriously floating in alien harmonies and is finally surpassed in brilliance by a moto perpetuo coda.       

When Beethoven dedicated his Wranitzky Variations to Countess von Browne in 1797 her husband - who was one of the composer’s most generous patrons during his early years in Vienna - demonstrated his gratitude by presenting him with a horse. It was presumably in the hope of receiving a more manageable form of acknowledgement that a year later he dedicated to Count von Browne his String Trios Op.9. While history does not record how the Brownes rewarded him in this case, we do know that he was exceptionally well paid by the publisher Johann Traeg, who bought the three works for fifty ducats - a sum equivalent, apparently, to the price of a good Viennese piano.

Successful though they were - Beethoven himself considered them the best of his works at the time - they were the last String Trios he was to write. By the time they were published he was probably already thinking about his first set of String Quartets and, as far as chamber music for strings was concerned, that was the area that was to occupy his exclusive attention for the rest of his life. It would be wrong, however, to assume that the String Trios were just a preparation for the String Quartets. On the contrary: the textural problems, and the solutions, are quite different, as Beethoven confirmed in the last of the Op.9 set, No.3 in C minor, which so successfully treats the three instruments more or less as soloists - a principle that cannot be applied to the string quartet. In No.1 in G major he seems to be working towards that principle even if he does not apply it as thoroughly as in (what one takes to be) the later score in C minor. The viola might enjoy less virtuoso prominence than the cello here and the cello less than the violin but they are all kept very busy.

From the impressive opening on all three instruments in fortissimo octaves, the Adagio introduction is alive with speculative activity. By no means all of it is relevant to the long-term structure but, just before the change of tempo, the violin does light on a little phrase which it then presents as the opening gesture of the Allegro con brio. Although that phrase seems to be designed to lead into more important material, the intervention of a few more bars of energetic if not entirely relevant activity makes the introduction of the main theme on a sonorous double-stopped G-major chord on the cello all the more striking. The second subject is in two parts, a miniature march eerily harmonised in D minor and a happier theme in D major on violin. In spite of the diversionary activity that follows before the end of the exposition, the development is firmly focused on the first subject, the little phrase that so modestly introduced it no less than the cello theme itself. Strangely, however, the main theme is omitted from the recapitulation. Although it does reappear on the cello in the coda, it is in quite the wrong key, requiring still more activity to put things harmonically right.

While the slow movement clearly favours the violin - which introduces both the tenderly expressive first subject in E major in the opening bars and the quietly intimate second subject in B minor - it is no less beautifully scored for that. There is an eloquent dialogue for violin and viola between the exposition of those themes and when he comes to the recapitulation, far from sacrificing spontaneity to regularity, Beethoven replaces that exchange with a comparatively dramatic episode instigated by a worried cello.

In the Scherzo the melodic interest is shared fairly evenly between violin on the one hand and viola and cello on the other, which enhances the congenial atmosphere entertaining even if it does not much advance the cause of democracy. Besides, no one goes short of attention in the Presto finale, which is all-inclusive in the exuberance of its scoring. The violin leads the way but the entry of the viola an octave below the soaring second subject on violin and the pre-Mendelssohn staccato articulation in even quavers on all three instruments at the close of the exposition are both rare inspirations. The hyper-activity of the contrapuntal textures at the start of the development is most effectively offset by an episode mysteriously floating in alien harmonies and is finally surpassed in brilliance by a moto perpetuo coda.