Piano Trio in B major Op.8 (1854)

Although it was not his practice to make major changes in earlier published works, Brahms had compelling reasons when he rewrote the Piano Trio in B major in 1889. The reasons were mainly professional, in that he found both the construction and much of the material inadequate, but some of them were personal: the first version of the Piano Trio in B major was written in 1854, round about the time of Robert Schumann’s suicide attempt, and it seems to betray something not only of his reactions to that event but also of his feelings for Clara Schumann.

In fact, according to her diary, Clara could not “get to like” the original first movement, “in spite of the splendid beginning.” Perhaps she said as much to the composer himself. Certainly, just about all that survives of it in the revised version is that splendid beginning. The point where the 1889 version begins to make its distinctive mark is on the entry of the vigorous triplet figuration in the transition to a new and very much shorter second subject. The structure as a whole is correspondingly more concise and, as Clara agreed, “better proportioned,”

The one movement of the 1854 version that remains largely unaltered in the 1889 revision is the B minor Scherzo. Masterfully integrated in construction, it is also brilliantly scored, after the Mendelssohn model. Only the coda, which now most effectively evaporates into a B major ending, needed to be changed. All that remains of the Adagio is the contemplative material of the outer sections, which anticipate the slow movement of the First Piano Concerto and the Robert and Clara Schumann associations that go with it. In simplifying the structure of the rest of the movement, Brahms wrote a whole new middle section and, for once, produced a melody worthy of the youthful genius who had created all the best tunes heard in the work so far.

The new second subject of the final Allegro was described by Clara Schumann as “quite ghastly.” Certainly, it is not the most elegant of Brahms’s melodic inspirations but it is just the sturdy sort of presence he needed at this point. If the work is not be prematurely swept away by the grimly determined first subject in B minor, there has to be a robustly positive force to be set against it in the major. It is scarcely developed, however, and does not accumulate the stature to withstand the pressure of the main theme which, from the agitated opening bars, was clearly leading to an unhappy B minor ending.

Gerald Larner ©2004

Clara Schumann found most of the Piano Trio in B major entirely worthy of Brahms’s genius when he played through the new score for her in March 1854. She had serious doubts, however, about the first movement: “I cannot get to like it,” she wrote in her diary, “in spite of the splendid beginnning.” Perhaps she said as much to the composer himself. Certainly, when he undertook a thorough revision of the work thirty-five years later, just about all that survived of the original version of the first movement was that splendid beginning.

“The Trio now seems to me to be a complete success,” Clara wrote in September 1889, and subsequent opinion has been in agreement with her – to such an extent that the 1854 version is scarcely ever performed these days. It was not Brahms’s intention that the revised version should replace the original, however. He told his publisher that he didn’t think the two versions should be advertised together but added that the old edition should still be made available to anyone who asked for it and, “if one day if it seems necessary or desirable,” it should even be reprinted. As for his fee for the revision, he asked, “how do you calculate payment for the castration of a trio?” Evidently, he still had an affection for a work written at a decisive turning point in his professional and emotional life – shortly after his meeting with Robert and Clara Schumann in Düsseldorf in September 1853 and during the period when he was falling in love with Clara and Robert’s mental health was deteriorating to the point where he would attempt to drown himself in the Rhine in February 1854.

No one would describe the revised version of the Piano Trio in B major as emasculated but, while it is more shapely in structure and more economical in development than the original, it is far less passionate in expression. The original first movement is a sensational display of creative resource. The young Brahms’s feeling that the spacious first subject required a substantial structure to do it justice was surely right. The older composer, on the other hand, decidedthat he had been too extravagant about it. The second subject, which he replaced with comparatively modest material in the revision, consists of no fewer than three distinct themes, all of them related to the first subject, one of them (introduced low in the left hand of the piano) sounding like interestingly chromatic material for a fugue. Although the fugal theme is not featured in the dramatically articulated and bewilderingly diverse development section, it finds its compensation in the recapitulation, where it motivates the virtuoso fugue it was destined for from its first appearance. The consequent exclusion of the rest of the second subject does not seriously detract from the unity of a construction crowned by a coda both abundant and emphatic in its allusions to the foregoing material.

The one movement of the 1854 version which remains largely unaltered in the 1889 revision is the Scherzo. What the mature Brahms found most impressive here, no doubt, was the way in which the broadly expressive melody of the Meno allegro middle section in B major is anticipated in the preceding Allegro molto in B minor and the corresponding way in which a prominent rhythmic figure from that first section rumbles at the bottom end of the keyboard through much of the Meno allegro. It is also brilliantly scored, after the Mendelssohn model but in Brahms’s own distinctive harmonies. Only the coda, which winds down to its attenuated B major ending at an ever slower tempo and in ever quieter pizzicato colours, was changed in the revision.

Echoing late Beethoven and at the same time anticipating the slow movement of the First Piano Concerto – the Robert and Clara Schumann associations of which offer a clue to what was on Brahms’s mind in 1854 – the contemplative beginning of the Adagio is the same in both versions. A muted benediction in B major, its gently inflected melodic line floating over wide-spaced chords on the piano, alternates with more directly expressive string duos. As with the Allegro con moto, however, the mature Brahms judged the rest of the movement too extravagant in expression and too loose in structure. The E major second subject that so much resembles the tearful Am Meer in Schubert’s Schwanengesang disappears in the revision, as does the extraordinary Allegro episode that so passionately delays the last echo of the opening B major material.

If the mature Brahms found the Schubert allusion in the original slow movement indiscreet, he must have found the second subject of the original finale positively embarrassing. A clear allusion on cello to the phrase from Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte which Schumann had addressed to Clara in his Fantasie in C major, it is replaced in the revised version by a theme which, ironically, Clara described as “quite ghastly.” Whatever the second subject, intimate in this case or robustly unsentimental in the revision, it cannot deflect the grimly determined and rhythmically obsessive first subject in B minor from its predestined progress to an unhappy ending.

Brahms’s Piano Trio in B major, Op.8, is not, except on rare occasions, what it seems. The opus number suggests a date of composition somewhere between the Six Songs, Op.7, of 1853 and the Schumann Variations, Op.9, of the following year, and Brahms did indeed complete a Piano Trio in B major in the first half of 1854. Thirty-five years later, however, having written two other piano trios in the meantime, he made a thorough revision of that youthful score, rewriting all but one of the four movements and reducing it considerably in length. Although the earlier version remains a valid and by no means embarrassing item in the Brahms catalogue, the more judiciously balanced 1889 revision is nearly always performed today.

Although it was not his practice to make major changes in earlier published works, Brahms had compelling reasons in this particular case. Most of them were professional, in that he found both the construction and much of the material inadequate, but some of them were personal: the first version of the Piano Trio in B major was written round about the time of Robert Schumann’s suicide attempt and it seems to betray something not only of his reactions to that event but also of his feelings for Clara Schumann. While little of the confessional aspect of the work survives in the revision, the B minor ending common to both versions must be a reflection of Brahms’s emotional state in Düsseldorf in 1854.

There is nothing unhappy about the first movement, which opens with the same splendidly affirmative melody in both versions. The point where the 1889 revision begins to make its distinctive mark is on the entry of the vigorous triplet figuration in the transition to the second subject. If the new theme that enters in octaves on the piano is less interesting than the first subject, that must be how Brahms intended it, since he goes on to devote most of the development to the opening theme and not a little of it to the transitional triplet figuration. Avoiding a too obviously triumphant return of the first subject, Brahms begins the recapitulation in a remote key and reserves the definitive return to B major until it is well in progress.

The one movement of the 1854 version which remained largely unaltered in the 1889 revision is the Scherzo. What the mature Brahms found most impressive here, no doubt, was the way in which the broadly expressive melody of the Meno allegro middle section in B major is anticipated in the preceding Allegro molto in B minor and the corresponding way in which a prominent rhythmic figure from that first section rumbles at the bottom end of the keyboard through much of the Meno allegro. Only the coda, which now most effectively evaporates into a B major ending, needed to be changed.

Echoing late Beethoven and at the same time anticipating the slow movement of the First Piano Concerto - the Robert and Clara Schumann associations of which offer a clue to what was on Brahms’s mind in 1854 - the contemplative beginning of the Adagio is the same in both versions. A muted benediction in B major, its gently inflected melodic line floating over wide-spaced chords on the piano alternates with more directly expressive string duos. In simplifying the structure of the rest of the movement in 1889, Brahms wrote a whole new middle section and, for once, produced a melody worthy of the youthful genius who had created all the best tunes heard in the work so far.

The new second subject of the final Allegro was described by Clara Schumann as “quite ghastly.” Certainly, it is not the most elegant of Brahms’s melodic inspirations but it is just the sturdy sort of presence he needed at this point. If the work is not be prematurely swept away by the grimly determined first subject in B minor, there has to be a robustly positive force to be set against it in the major. It is scarcely developed, however, and does not accumulate the stature to withstand the pressure of the main theme which, from the agitated opening bars, was clearly leading to an unhappy B minor ending.

Clara Schumann found most of the Piano Trio in B major entirely worthy of Brahms’s genius when he played through the new score for her in March 1854. She had serious doubts, however, about the first movement: “I cannot get to like it,” she wrote in her diary, “in spite of the splendid beginnning.” Perhaps she said as much to the composer himself. Certainly, when he undertook a thorough revision of the work thirty-five years later, just about all that survived of the original version of the first movement was that splendid beginning.

It was not Brahms’s intention that the revised version should replace the original, however. He told his publisher that the old edition should still be made available to anyone who asked for it and, “if one day if it seems necessary or desirable,” it should even be reprinted. As for his fee for the revision, he asked, “how do you calculate payment for the castration of a trio?”

No one would describe the revised version of the Piano Trio in B major as emasculated but, while it is more shapely in structure and more economical in development than the original, it is far less passionate in expression. The original first movement is a sensational display of creative resource. The young Brahms’s feeling that the spacious first subject required a substantial structure to do it justice was surely right. The second subject, which he replaced with comparatively modest material in the revision, consists of no fewer than three distinct themes, all of them related to the first subject, one of them (introduced low in the left hand of the piano) sounding like interestingly chromatic material for a fugue. Although the fugal theme is not featured in the dramatically articulated and bewilderingly diverse development section, it finds its compensation in the recapitulation, where it motivates the virtuoso fugue it was destined for from its first appearance.

The one movement of the 1854 version which remains largely unaltered in the 1889 revision is the Scherzo. What the mature Brahms found most impressive here, no doubt, was the way in which the broadly expressive melody of the Meno allegro middle section in B major is anticipated in the preceding Allegro molto in B minor and the corresponding way in which a prominent rhythmic figure from that first section rumbles at the bottom end of the keyboard through much of the Meno allegro. It is also brilliantly scored, after the Mendelssohn model but in Brahms’s own distinctive harmonies. Only the coda, which winds down to its attenuated B major ending at an ever slower tempo and in ever quieter pizzicato colours, was changed in the revision.

Echoing late Beethoven and at the same time anticipating the slow movement of the First Piano Concerto – the Robert and Clara Schumann associations of which offer a clue to what was on Brahms’s mind in 1854 – the contemplative beginning of the Adagio is the same in both versions. A muted benediction in B major, its gently inflected melodic line floating over wide-spaced chords on the piano, alternates with more directly expressive string duos. As with the Allegro con moto, however, the mature Brahms judged the rest of the movement too extravagant in expression and too loose in structure. The E major second subject that so much resembles the tearful Am Meer in Schubert’s Schwanengesang disappears in the revision, as does the extraordinary Allegro episode that so passionately delays the last echo of the opening B major material.

If the mature Brahms found the Schubert allusion in the original slow movement indiscreet, he must have found the second subject of the original finale positively embarrassing. A clear allusion on cello to the phrase from Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte which Schumann had addressed to Clara in his Fantasie in C major, it is replaced in the revised version by a theme which, ironically, Clara described as “quite ghastly.” Whatever the second subject, intimate in this case or robustly unsentimental in the revision, it cannot deflect the grimly determined and rhythmically obsessive first subject in B minor from its predestined progress to an unhappy ending.

brahms: piano trio in B major op8

Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)

Piano Trio in B major, Op.8

Allegro con brio

Scherzo: allegro molto - meno allegro

Adagio

Allegro

Brahms’s Piano Trio in B major, Op.8, is not, except on rare occasions, what it seems. The opus number suggests a date of composition somewhere between the Six Songs, Op.7, of 1853 and the Schumann Variations, Op.9, of the following year, and Brahms did indeed complete a Piano Trio in B major in the first half of 1854. Thirty-five years later, however, having written two other piano trios in the meantime, he made a thorough revision of that youthful score, rewriting all but one of the four movements and reducing it considerably in length. Although the earlier version remains a valid and by no means embarrassing item in the Brahms catalogue, the more judiciously balanced 1889 revision is nearly always performed today.

Although it was not his practice to make major changes in earlier published works, Brahms had compelling reasons in this particular case. Most of them were professional, in that he found both the construction and much of the material inadequate, but some of them were personal: the first version of the Piano Trio in B major was written round about the time of Robert Schumann’s suicide attempt and it seems to betray something not only of his reactions to that event but also of his feelings for Clara Schumann. While little of the confessional aspect of the work survives in the revision, the B minor ending common to both versions must be a reflection of Brahms’s emotional state in Düsseldorf in 1854.

There is nothing unhappy about the first movement, which opens with the same splendidly affirmative melody in both versions. The point where the 1889 revision begins to make its distinctive mark is on the entry of the vigorous triplet figuration in the transition to the second subject. If the new theme that enters in octaves on the piano is less interesting than the first subject, that must be how Brahms intended it, since he goes on to devote most of the development to the opening theme and not a little of it to the transitional triplet figuration. Avoiding a too obviously triumphant return of the first subject, Brahms begins the recapitulation in a remote key and reserves the definitive return to B major until it is well in progress.

The one movement of the 1854 version which remained largely unaltered in the 1889 revision is the Scherzo. What the mature Brahms found most impressive here, no doubt, was the way in which the broadly expressive melody of the Meno allegro middle section in B major is anticipated in the preceding Allegro molto in B minor and the corresponding way in which a prominent rhythmic figure from that first section rumbles at the bottom end of the keyboard through much of the Meno allegro. It is also brilliantly scored, after the Mendelssohn model but in Brahms’s own harmonic colours. Only the coda, which now most effectively evaporates into a B major ending, needed to be changed.

Echoing late Beethoven and at the same time anticipating the slow movement of the First Piano Concerto - the Robert and Clara Schumann associations of which offer a clue to what was on Brahms’s mind in 1854 - the contemplative beginning of the Adagio is the same in both versions. A muted benediction in B major, its gently inflected melodic line floating over wide-spaced chords on the piano, alternates with more directly expressive string duos. In simplifying the structure of the rest of the movement in 1889, Brahms wrote a whole new middle section and, for once, produced a melody worthy of the youthful genius who had created all the best tunes heard in the work so far. The new material is not so much integrated with the old but subtly interpolated into it, its entry on cello and piano as discreetly made as its eventual retreat before a modestly decorated reprise of the first section.

The new second subject of the final Allegro - which, like the revised first and third movements, begins in much the same way as in the first version but only to go its own way in the next episode - was described by Clara Schumann as “quite ghastly.” Certainly, it is not the most elegant of Brahms’s melodic inspirations but it is just the sturdy sort of presence he needed at this point. If the work is not be prematurely swept away by the grimly determined first subject in B minor, there has to be a robustly positive force to be set against it in the major. It is scarcely developed, however, and does not accumulate the stature to withstand the pressure of the main theme which, from the agitated opening bars, was clearly leading to an unhappy B minor ending.

Gerald Larner©