Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel Op.24 (1861)

When Schumann first met Brahms in 1853 he was so impressed by his music that he publicly declared him “fated to give expression to the times in the highest and most ideal manner.” By that he might have meant that Brahms was an extraordinarily promising “romantic,” in our sense of the word. But he already knew of the young composer’s allegiance to Bach, acquired by way of his teacher Eduard Marxsen in Hamburg, and perhaps that was in Schumann’s mind too. Certainly, Brahm’s life-long interest in classical and pre-classical music is clearly evident in many of his compositions. It is true that there are several obviously “romantic” episodes in the 24 variations of Brahms’s Op.24, like the regretful No.5 and the elegiac No.13, both in B flat minor. But the basic theme is by Handel    (the Air from his Leçon in B flat major) and the work is abundant in baroque allusions of all kinds – culminating, of course, in the great fugue which could derive only from his experience of playing piano arrangements of Bach’s organ fugues.

The most remarkable quality of the theme that Brahms found in Handel’s Lesson for harpsichord in B flat is its ordinariness - a simple binary construction with four bars in each part, plain B flat major harmonies and much the same rhythmic pattern in every bar. Handel’s own five variations are correspondingly unadventurous and - allowing for a century of development in the technique of melodic variation and for a hundred years of changing taste - Brahms exercised a comparable restraint when he wrote his variations in 1861. Preserving,for the most part, the symmetrical phrasing and common-time metre of the original theme, he departed from the key of B flat major in only four of the twenty-four variation

The variety, which is enormous, is to be found mainly in the harmonic freedom possible within Handel’s solid B flat framework and in the ingenious transformations of the prevailing rhythmic pattern from variation to variation. At the same time he assembles a structure culminating, it seems, in the last pair, which are both in 12/8 and which between them accumulate the energy that finally bursts into the heightened version of the very first variation in the set.

But there is yet another culmination. Brahms is said to have enjoyed playing piano arrangements of baroque organ fugues; that, surely is the inspiration of the multi-layered texture of this exultant conclusion freely based on the first two bars of Handel’s theme.

The most remarkable quality of the theme that Brahms found in Handel’s Lesson in B flat – a suite of harpsichord pieces written for the daughters of the Prince of Wales in 1733 – is its ordinariness. It’s a simple construction in two parts, both of them four bars in length, with plain B flat major harmonies and much the same rhythmic pattern in every bar. Both halves are symmetrically divided into two-bar phrases; both end in a flourish; and both are repeated. Handel himself supplied five modest variations on his “Air” and – allowing for more than a hundred years of changing taste and of development in both variation and keyboard techniques – Brahms exercised a comparable restraint when he wrote his variations in 1861.

In only three of the twenty-five variations does Brahms depart from the common-time metre of the original theme, and those three are in the 12/8 sanctioned by Handel in the fourth of his variations. In only one of them does he depart from Handel’s construction in two parts of four bars each and in some cases he retains not only the symmetrical two-bar phrasing but also the flourishes at the end of each part. In only four variations does he depart from the key of B flat major: three of them are in B flat minor and one is in the closely related key of G minor. Many of them begin their second half in the dominant, as in the original, and sometimes Brahms remains so faithful to Handel as to make the seventh bar identical with or very similar to the first.

While there is no lack of diversity even in the variations closest to Handel’s theme – thanks largely to the distinctive rhythmic figuration allocated to each one of them – the most prominent features are inevitably those which diverge from the norm, like the expressive 5th variation in B flat minor and its canonic but still poetic successor in the same key. Then there are the Largamente 13th variation, also in B flat minor, with its passionate Hungarian-gypsy harmonies, the graceful siciliano of the 19th, the delicately sensitive 21st in G minor and the delightful music-box 22nd immediately preceding the progressive surge in energy that leads through the last three variations towards the closing fugue.

It is said that Brahms enjoyed playing piano arrangements of baroque organ fugues. That, surely, is the inspiration of this exultant finale which not only applies the full panoply of conventional contrapuntal devices to its lapidary theme – freely derived from the first three notes of Handel’s Air – but also liberates the work from its structural regularity in a spontaneously asymmetrical and yet powerfully cumulative continuity.

Though no more remarkable than Handel’s other keyboard suites, the Leçon in B flat major has inspired two major works by composers of later generations. Tippett’s Fantasia on a Theme of Handel is based on a chord progression in the Prelude, while the source of Brahms’s Variations and Fugue is the concluding Air with five variations. For Brahms the interesting quality of Handel’s Air seems to have been the infinite potential represented by its sheer ordinariness. It is a simple construction in two parts, both of them four bars in length, with plain B flat major harmonies and much the same rhythmic pattern in every bar. Both halves are symmetrically divided into two-bar phrases; both end in a flourish; and both are repeated. Handel himself supplied five modest variations and – allowing for more than a hundred years of changing taste and of development in both variation and keyboard techniques – Brahms exercised a comparable restraint when he wrote his variations in 1861.

In only three of the twenty-five variations does Brahms depart from the common-time metre of the original theme, and those three are in the 12/8 sanctioned by Handel in the fourth of his variations. In only one of them does he depart from Handel’s construction in two parts of four bars each and in some cases he retains not only the symmetrical two-bar phrasing but also the flourishes at the end of each part. In only four variations does he depart from the key of B flat major: three of them are in B flat minor and one is in the closely related key of G minor. Many of them begin their second half in the dominant, as in the original, and sometimes Brahms remains so faithful to Handel as to make the seventh bar identical with or very similar to the first.

The variety, which is enormous, is to be found mainly in the harmonic freedom possible within Handel’s solid B flat framework and in the ingenious transformations of the prevailing rhythmic pattern from variation to variation. No.1 is built on a vigorously uneven three-note motif which No.2 smoothes out into a triplet figures in the right hand over duplets in the left. No.3 is based on a pattern of three quavers crossing the bar line as it passes from hand to hand, No.4 on groups of semiquavers with a heavy sforzando offbeat accents. The most prominent features, however, are those which diverge from the norm, like the expressive 5th variation in B flat minor and its canonic but still poetic successor in the same key. Then there are the the other B flat minor variation, the Largamente No.13 with its passionate Hungarian-gypsy harmonies, the graceful siciliano of the 19th, the delicately sensitive 21st in G minor and the delightful music-box 22nd immediately preceding the progressive surge in energy that leads by way of the gigue-like rhythms of No.23 and the seething energy of No.24 to the explosively triumphant No.25.

It is said that Brahms enjoyed playing piano arrangements of baroque organ fugues. That, surely, is the inspiration of this exultant finale which not only applies the full panoply of conventional contrapuntal devices to its lapidary theme – freely derived from the first three notes of Handel’s Air – but also liberates the work from its structural regularity in a spontaneously asymmetrical and yet powerfully cumulative continuity.

Brahms found his theme in Handel’s Lesson for harpsichord in B flat. It’s promise is in its ordinariness. It is a simple binary construction with four bars in each part, plain B flat major harmonies, and much the same rhythmic pattern in every bar. Both halves are symmetrically divided into two-bar phrases; both end in a flourish; and both are repeated. Handel’s own five variations are unadventurous and – allowing for a century of development in the technique of melodic variation and for a hundred years of changing taste – Brahms exercised a comparable restraint when he wrote his variations in 1861.

In only three of the twenty-five variations does Brahms depart from the common-time metre of the original theme, and those three (19, 23 and 24) are in the 12/8 sanctioned by Handel in his variations. In only one of them does he depart from the four bars + four bars binary construction; often he retains the original symmetrical two-bar phrasing and even the flourishes at the end of each half. In only four variations does Brahms depart from the key of B flat major; 5, 6 and 13 are in B flat minor; 21 is in the closely related key of G minor. Many of them actually begin their second half in the dominant (as in the original) and sometimes he remains so faithful to Handel as to make the seventh bar identical with or very similar to the first.

The variety, which is enormous, is to be found mainly in the harmonic freedom possible with Handel’s solid B flat framework and in the ingenious transformations of the prevailing rhythmic pattern from variation to variation. The first variation is built on a disruptively uneven three-note motif, the second on smooth triplet figures, the third on a pattern of three quavers crossing the bar line, the fourth on groups of semiquavers with a heavy sforzando accent on the fourth.

Brahms is also very concerned about the overall structure of the work. Some variations are in groups, like the lyrical minor-key fifth and sixth, or like the seventh and eighth with a bouncy theme in common. If there is a threat of too much B flat, a mysterious variation like the ninth draws a chromatic veil over it. So the tenth is a bright and clear scherzo unequivocally in B flat major, the eleventh and equally lucid contrast in the same key. The twelfth, with the theme in two-part harmonic in the left hand, is less radiant and obviously a preparation for the broad and slow thirteenth variation in B flat minor. The fourteenth energetically flings open the windows and clears the air. The next four are all part of one group, the sixteenth being a variation on the fifteenth by displacing its rhythmic accents. The seventeenth and eighteenth continue to make use of the same rhythmic idea and, by means of continued allusions in the left hand to the two-part harmonies of the twelfth variation, make a link with an earlier point in the construction.

With the nineteenth variation Brahms seems to make a fresh start. The quick siciliano-like 12/8 has no relationship with the earlier variations. The chromatic veil drawn by the twentieth and the G minor tonality of the twenty-first complete the disorientation. But the last four, all in B flat major, restore the links with the earlier part of the set and with their immediate predecessors. The rhythms of the twenty-second are a reflection of those of the nineteenth; the twenty-third and twenty-fourth are both in 12/8 and represent between them an accumulation of energy which bursts into the heightened version in the last variation of the very first in the set.

This is in itself a culmination, but the work evidently needs a more extended construction to complete it. So the fugue now follows, its convulsive main subject derived from the first two bars of Handel’s theme, its structure avoiding the symmetrical phrases of the variations in an unbroken continuity. Brahms is said to have enjoyed playing piano arrangements of baroque organ fugues; that, surely is the inspiration of the multi-layered writing of this exultant conclusion.

Though no more remarkable than Handel’s other keyboard suites, the Leçon in B flat major has inspired two major works by composers of later generations. Tippett’s Fantasia on a Theme of Handel is based on a chord progression in the Prelude, while the source of Brahms’s Variations and Fugue is the concluding Air with five variations. For Brahms the interesting property of Handel’s Air seems to have been the infinite potential represented by its sheer ordinariness. It is a simple construction in two parts, both of them four bars in length, with plain B flat major harmonies and much the same rhythmic pattern in every bar. Both halves are symmetrically divided into two-bar phrases; both end in a flourish; and both are repeated.

Handel’s own five variations are unadventurous and, in some ways, Brahms exercised a comparable restraint when – with a birthday present for his “most beloved friend” Clara Schumann in mind – he got to work on his variations in 1861. In only three of the twenty-five variations does he depart from the common-time metre of the original theme, and those three (Nos.19, 23 and 24) are in the 12/8 sanctioned by Handel in two of his variations. In only one of them does he depart from the 4+4 bars binary construction; often he retains the original symmetrical two-bar phrasing and even the flourishes at the end of each half. In only four variations does he depart from the key of B flat major: Nos. 5, 6 and 13 are in B flat minor whil No. 21is in the closely related key of G minor. Many of them actually begin their second half in the dominant (as in the original) and sometimes he remains so faithful to Handel as to make the seventh bar identical with or very similar to the first.

The variety, which is enormous, is to be found mainly in the harmonic freedom possible within Handel’s solid B flat framework and in the ingenious transformations of the prevailing rhythmic pattern from variation to variation. No.1 is built on a vigorously uneven three-note motif which No.2 smoothes out into a triplet figures in the right hand over duplets in the left. No.3 is based on a pattern of three quavers crossing the bar line as it passes from hand to hand, No.4 on groups of semiquavers with a heavy sforzando offbeat accents.

While pursuing melodic and rhythmic variety in this way, Brahms also has a concern for structural unity. Some variations are in pairs, like the regretful No.5 and the canonic No.6, both in the minor, or like Nos. 7 and 8 with the bouncy rhythmic figure they have in common. If there is a threat of too much B flat by now, the disturbingly chromatic No.9 effectively undermines it. No.10 clears the air with a bright and clear scherzo unequivocally in B flat major and No.11 melodiously retains the lucidity in the same key. No.12, with the theme in two-part harmony in the left hand under an expressive commentary in the right, is less radiant and perhaps intended as a preparation for the broadly elegiac No.13 in B flat minor. No.14 energetically flings open the window again. Nos. 15 and 16 are another pair, the latter    presenting itself as a variation on the former by displacing its characteristic rhythmic accents. Nos.17 and 18 both refer back to the left-hand part of No.12, each one adding its own right-hand figuration.

With variation No.19 Brahms seems to make a fresh start. Its quick siciliano-like 12/8 has no relationship with the earlier variations and the chromatic harmonies of No.20 and the G minor tonality of No.21 complete the disorientation. The last four, however, all of them in B flat major, are linked by a common purpose, leading from the radiant musical-box sonorities of No.22 by way of the the gigue-like rhythms of No.23 and the seething energy of No. 24 to the explosively triumphant No.25.

Although this is in itself a culmination, the work evidently needs a more extended construction to complete it. So the fugue now follows, its convulsive main theme derived from the first two bars of Handel’s Air, its structure avoiding the symmetrical phrases of the variations in an unbroken continuity. Brahms is said to have enjoyed playing piano arrangements of Bach organ fugues – which, surely is the source of the multilayered polyphony and the baroque contrapuntal devices which are given such vital new life in this exultant conclusion.