Composers › Johannes Brahms › Programme note
Clarinet Quintet in B minor, Op.115
Gerald Larner wrote 3 versions of differing length — choose one below.
Movements
Allegro
Adagio
Andantino grazioso - presto non assai, ma con sentimento
Con moto - un poco meno mosso
On the completion of his String Quintet in G major in 1890 Brahms declared that it would be his last work. Less than a year later he heard the playing of Richard Mühlfeld, the self-taught clarinettist of the Meiningen Orchestra, and changed his mind. It was for Mühlfeld, his “Primadonna,” that Brahms wrote his last four chamber works - the Trio Op.114 and the Quintet Op.115 in the summer of 1891 and the two Sonatas Op.120 three years later.
One reason why the Quintet has proved to be the most popular of the four could be that Brahms was comparatively relaxed about allowing the clarinet to adopt a starring role. But if strictly democratic textural integration was less of a concern for him here than usual, structural integration was all the more important. The opening phrase on the two violins, with its group of liquid semiquavers, is not only an irresistibly idiomatic invitation to the clarinet but also the source of much of the material and the motivation for many of the events to be heard later in the work. All the thematic material of the first movement is derived directly from the opening bars. That influential group of semiquavers also dominates the first part of the development, where the main theme itself is remembered only to serve as a lead into the recapitulation.
In the Adagio the strings are muted throughout, which enhances the intimacy of the atmosphere and at the same time heightens the profile of the wind instrument, however sensitively it utters the tenderly expressive melodic line in the outer sections of the movement. The middle section, which is approached by a short clarinet cadenza clearly recalling the group of semiquavers from the beginning of the work, is an eloquent improvisation in an elevated modification of the Hungarian gypsy style.
The seminal group of semiquavers is so well concealed in the Andantino introduction to the third movement that it scarcely registers on the ear. It is not to be heard at all in the Con moto theme of the finale or in either of the first two variations. But it is distinctly present in the decorative line of the first violin in the third variation and, after another reminder offered by the clarinet in the fifth and last variation, its reappearance in something close to its original shape and tempo is both inevitable and unmistakably conclusive.
From Gerald Larner’s files: “Quintet/clarinet Op115/w397”
Movements
Allegro
Adagio
Andantino grazioso - presto non assai, ma con sentimento
Con moto - un poco meno mosso
On the completion of his String Quintet in G major in 1890 Brahms declared that it would be his last work. Less than a year later he heard the playing of Richard Mühlfeld, the self-taught clarinettist of the Meiningen Orchestra, and changed his mind. It was for Mühlfeld, his “primadonna”as he called him, that Brahms wrote his last four chamber works - the Trio in A minor Op.114 and the Quintet in B minor Op.115 at Bad Ischl in the summer of 1891 and the two Sonatas Op.120 at the same resort in the Salzkammergut three years later.
One reason why the Quintet has proved to be the most popular of the four could be that Brahms was comparatively relaxed about allowing the clarinet to adopt a starring role. But if strictly democratic textural integration was less of a concern for him here than usual, structural integration was all the more important. The opening phrase on the two violins, with its group of liquid semi-quavers, is not only an irresistibly idiomatic invitation to the clarinet but also the source of much of the material and the motivation for many of the events to be heard later in the work. The lyrical main theme introduced by cello and viola, its more aggressive companion characterised by staccato string chords, the expressive second subject poised on the clarinet over four-part counterpoint in the strings, its hesitantly syncopated companion, all these are derived directly from the opening bars. That influential group of semiquavers also dominates the first part of the development, where the main theme itself is remembered only to serve as a lead into the recapitulation.
In the Adagio the strings are muted throughout, which enhances the intimacy of the atmosphere and at the same time heightens the profile of the wind instrument, however sensitively it utters the tenderly expressive melodic line in the outer sections of the movement. The middle section, which is approached by a short clarinet cadenza clearly recalling the group of semiquavers from the beginning of the work, is an eloquent improvisation in an elevated modification of the Hungarian gypsy style, the strings supporting the clarinet in an extraordinary display of exotic colouring.
The third movement proves not to be the lyrical intermezzo Brahms characteristically introduces at this point. It begins in that way but the Andantino is actually little more than an introduction to the Presto non assai, which transforms its easy-going theme into a busily scherzando variant for the strings consistently offset by contrastingly lyrical material on the clarinet. As for the seminal group of semiquavers, it is so well concealed in the Andantino melody that it scarcely registers on the ear. It is not to be heard at all in the Con moto theme of the finale or in either of the first two variations. But it is distinctly present in the decorative line of the first violin in the third variation and, while it does not figure in the amorous dialogue between clarinet and first violin in the fourth variation, the second violin clearly cannot forget it. After another reminder offered by the clarinet in the fifth and last variation, its reappearance in something close to its original shape and tempo is both inevitable and unmistakably conclusive.
From Gerald Larner’s files: “Quintet/clarinet Op.115/w546”
Movements
Allegro
Adagio
Andantino grazioso - presto non assai, ma con sentimento
Con moto - un poco meno mosso
On the completion of his String Quintet in G major in 1890 Brahms declared that it would be his last work. Less than a year later he heard the playing of Richard Mühlfeld, the self-taught clarinettist of the Meiningen Orchestra, and changed his mind. It was for Mühlfeld, his “Primadonna”as he called him, that Brahms wrote his last four chamber works - the Trio in A minor Op.114 and the Quintet in B minor Op.115 at Bad Ischl in the summer of 1891 and the two Sonatas Op.120 at the same resort in the Salzkammergut three years later.
When the Trio and the Quintet were first performed, in the same programme, in concerts in Meiningen and Berlin towards the end of 1891 the latter work proved to be much the more popular - to the surprise of the composer and some of his closest associates, who felt that the Trio was the superior score. Certainly, the Trio is singularly successful in integrating three entirely disparate instruments but it contains nothing quite as attractive as the Adagio of the Quintet which, though it features the clarinet in a frankly solo role, is as beautiful as anything Brahms ever wrote. As for integration, there is no better example than the first movement of the Quintet, where the textural relationship between clarinet and strings is an unfailing source of fascination.
Brahms was no less concerned with structural integration of course than with textural integration. The opening phrase on the two violins, with its group of liquid semi-quavers, is not only an irresistibly idiomatic invitation to the clarinet but also the source of much of the material and the motivation for many of the events to be heard later in the work. The lyrical main theme introduced by cello and viola, its more aggressive companion characterised by staccato string chords, the expressive second subject poised on the clarinet over four-part counterpoint in the strings, its hesitantly syncopated companion, all these are derived directly from the opening bars. That influential group of semiquavers dominates the first part of the development which then, more surprisingly, turns its attention to an appealing legato version of the aggressive companion to the first subject. The main theme itself is remembered only to serve as a lead into the recapitulation but is further and most poetically developed in the gradually subsiding coda.
In the Adagio the strings are muted throughout, which enhances the intimacy of the atmosphere and at the same time heightens the profile of the wind instrument, however sensitively it utters the tenderly expressive melodic line in the outer sections of the movement. The middle section, which is approached by a short clarinet cadenza clearly recalling the group of semiquavers from the beginning of the work, is an eloquent improvisation in an elevated modification of the Hungarian gypsy style, the strings supporting the clarinet in an extraordinary display of exotic colouring. The underlying melodic inspiration here is a variant of the tender main theme, which is then reintroduced in its original form in the closing section - though not without evoking in the clarinet a modestly distant memory of its virtuoso figuration in the middle of the movement.
The third movement proves not to be the lyrical intermezzo Brahms characteristically introduces at this point. It begins in that way but the Andantino is actually little more than an introduction to the Presto non assai, which transforms its easy-going theme into a busily scherzando variant for the strings consistently offset by contrastingly lyrical material on the clarinet. As for the seminal group of semiquavers, it is so well concealed in the Andantino melody that it scarcely registers on the ear. It is not to be heard at all in the Con moto theme of the finale or in either of the first two variations. But it is distinctly present in the decorative line of the first violin in the third variation and, while it does not figure in the amorous dialogue between clarinet and first violin in the fourth variation, the second violin clearly cannot forget it. After another reminder offered by the clarinet in the fifth and last variation, its reappearance in something close to its original shape and tempo is both inevitable and unmistakably conclusive.
Gerald Larner©
From Gerald Larner’s files: “Quintet/clarinet Op.115/w707”