Piano Trio in C major Op.87 (1882)

When the Piano Trio in C major was first performed, in private, Brahms claimed that it was a new work by the pianist on that occasion, Ignaz Brüll. Although Brüll was known as a composer, it is unlikely that any of those present were taken in by the pretence. Certainly, he was a friend of Brahms and knew his work well, but how could he have invented such a distinctive and characteristically Brahmsian theme as that which opens the first movement on violin and cello in octaves? Not only that but the profusion of thematic material that follows, the lyrical but harmonically elusive second subject, the two dramatically reiterated motifs connected with it, and the grazioso closing theme on piano accompanied by pizzicato cello? And who but a composer confident in the authenticity of his inspiration would have thought that, with all this material clamouring for attention, it would be appropriate to introduce in the development section a virtually new theme – actually an espressivo augmentation of the first subject – on cello and then violin?

The A-minor slow movement, a theme and five variations, might just have got by as Brüll, since the quasi-Hungarian theme itself (on violin and cello in octaves again) is less distinctive and not, at first sight, a particularly well chosen subject for variation. But even if the assertive third variation with its multi-stopped string chords, could have been written by an observant follower of Brahms, what about the poignant three-part dialogue that precedes it and the two lyrical variations (in A major and A minor respectively) that follow it? When it came to the Scherzo in C minor, unmistakably characteristic of Brahms in demonic mode, and the slower C-major middle section, equally characteristic in its amplitude, the game was surely up.

Even if the identity of the composer was still unclear at this point, it must have been clear at least that the work was by a master of the modern two-sided piano trio – so much so that violin and cello work as consistently together, as though with one mind, as the right and left hands of the piano part. The last movement is a particularly interestng example. Beginning with two themes introduced simultaneously, one in legato octaves on the strings and the other in staccato figuration on the piano, it sustains the distinction between the two sides almost throughout. They join forces, to the extent that the cello has to double the bass line of the piano, only in the emphatically conclusive coda.