String Quartet in F major, Op.96 (“American”) [1893]

Dvorak’s String Quartet in F major is “American” at least in the sense that it was written in Spillville, Iowa, in 1893, when the composer was on holiday from his duties as Director of the National Conservatory of Music of America. But Spillville was no ordinary American community. It was a Czech settlement with a general commitment to the Czech language and with its own St Wenceslas Church. Dvorák described it as “a completely Czech place…where I am very happy.”

The “American” Quartet reflects in musical terms the curious national ambiguity of a little Bohemia in the mid-west. American commentators have found just as much evidence to claim a native or black American origin for certain themes as have Czech commentators to claim a Bohemian origin for the same themes. The fact is that pentatonic melody is common to many primitive cultures. Both the two main themes of the first movement are pentatonic – the brisk statement made by the viola in the opening bars, under quiet violin tremolandos, and the exquisitely nostalgic second-subject melody whispered by first violin over sustained harmonies in the rest of the ensemble. The Lento features a melody so ambiguously and so exquisitely poised between the two cultures that it has been described as a “czech blues.”

The second theme of the Molto vivace scherzo, presented high on the E-string of the first violin over an ostinato accompaniment, is based on the song of the scarlet tanager that the composer noted down on a walk in the woods by the Little Turkey river. Until Czech ornithologists find a bird on their own territory with a similar song this must be a point in favour of the Americans. The pentatonic first theme remains common property, however. So does the main theme of the last movement, even though this one is accompanied on its first appearance by an ostinato pattern (somewhat dubiously) identified as an Indian drum rhythm. The chorale-like second episode, which is said to be an echo of the little organ in St Wenceslas Church, is about as Czech as the scarlet tanager is American.

Dvorak’s Quartet in F major is “Amnerican” at least in that it was written in Spillville, Iowa, when the composer was on holiday from his duties as Director of the National Conservatory of Music of America. But Spillville was no ordinary American community. It was a Czech settlement with a general commitment to the Czech language and with its own St Wenceslas Church. Dvorák, reunited at last with a family that had been split between Prague and New York for the last six months, described it as “a completely Czech place…where I am very happy.”

The “American” Quartet reflects in musical terms the curious national ambiguity of a little Bohemia in the mid-west. American commentators have found just as much evidence to claim a native or black American origin for certain themes as have Czech commentators to claim a Bohemian origin for the same themes. The fact is that pentatonic melody is common to many primitive cultures. Both the two main themes of the first movement are pentatonic – the brisk statement made by the viola in the opening bars, under quiet violin tremolandos, and the exquisitely nostalgic second-subject melody whispered by first violin over sustained harmonies in the rest of the ensemble.

Whatever its source – it is so ambiguously and so exquisitely poised between the two cultures that it has been described as a “czech blues” – the expressive melody of the Lento is given Dvorak’s undivided attention throughout. Everything is arranged to present it in its most alluring colours, to extend it and to develop its expressive potential in the middle section. It makes a last appearance in D minor on the cello accompanied by quiet chords, alternately plucked and bowed, on the other three instruments.

The second theme of the F major scherzo, presented high on the E-string of the first violin over an ostinato accompaniment, is based on the song of the scarlet tanager that the composer noted down on a walk in the woods by the Little Turkey river. Until Czech ornithologists find a bird on their own territory with a similar song this must be a point in favour of the Americans. The pentatonic first theme remains common property, however. So does the main theme of the last movement, even though this one is accompanied on its first appearance by an ostinato pattern (somewhat dubiously) identified as an Indian drum rhythm. The chorale-like second episode, which is said to be an echo of the little organ in St Wenceslas Church, is about as Czech as the scarlet tanager is American.

Dvorak’s Quartet in F major is “Amnerican” at least in that it was written in Spillville, Iowa, when the composer was on holiday from his duties as Director of the National Conservatory of Music of America. But Spillville was no ordinary American community. It was a Czech settlement with a general commitment to the Czech language and with its own St Wenceslas Church. Dvorák, reunited at last with a family that had been split between Prague and New York for the last six months, described it as “a completely Czech place…where I am very happy.”

The “American” Quartet reflects in musical terms the curious national ambiguity of a little Bohemia in the mid-west. American commentators have found just as much evidence to claim a native or black American origin for certain themes as have Czech commentators to claim a Bohemian origin for the same themes. The fact is that pentatonic melody is common to many primitive cultures. Both the two main themes of the first movement are pentatonic – the brisk statement made by the viola in the opening bars, under quiet violin tremolandos, and the exquisitely nostalgic second-subject melody whispered by first violin over sustained harmonies in the rest of the ensemble. This latter is not so much a theme as an expression of atmosphere, since it cannot be developed – the middle part of the movement is devoted mainly to the first subject – and can only be repeated or, when the cello has it in the recapitulation, slightly reshaped.

Whatever its source, American or Bohemian, the expressive melody of the Lento is given Dvorak’s undivided attention throughout. Everything is arranged to present it in its most alluring colours, to extend it and to develop its expressive potential in the middle section. It makes a last appearance in D minor on the cello accompanied by quiet chords, alternately plucked and bowed, on the other three instruments.

The second theme of the F major scherzo, presented high on the E-string of the first violin over an ostinato accompaniment, is based on the song of the scarlet tanager that the composer noted down on a walk in the woods by the Little Turkey river. Until Czech ornithologists find a bird on their own territory with a similar song this must be a point in favour of the Americans. The pentatonic first theme remains common property, however, and so do the F minor variants which so effectively offset it in the two trio sections.

The main theme of the last movement, a rondo in F major, is another pentatonic tune, this one accompanied on its first appearance by an ostinato pattern somewhat dubiously identified as an Indian drum rhythm. The same rhythm persists on second violin and viola through much of the lyrical first episode in A flat major. It then disappears and remains out of hearing during the first return of the rondo theme and a thoughtful second episode which is said to be an echo of the little organ in St Wenceslas Church. The dancing rhythm reappears only at a point half-way through the recapitulation, on the recall of the first episode, but for no more than a few bars before it is swept aside by an increasingly vigorous and sonorous coda.

Bedrich Smetana (1824-1884)

String Quartet No.2 in D minor (1882-3)

Allegro

Allegro moderato

Allegro non piu moderato, ma agitato e con fuoco

Finale: Presto - allegro

Bohuslav Martinu (1890-1959)

String Quartet No.5 (1938)

Allegro non troppo

Adagio

Allegro vivo

Lento - allegro

Antonín Dvorák (1841-1904)

String Quartet in F major Op.96 “American” (1893)

Allegro ma non troppo

Lento

Molto vivace

Finale: vivace ma non troppo

Once a Czech composer always a Czech composer. It was Smetena who demonstrated that the Czech national idiom offered a musical language that could be extended into any dimension, from the merest piano polka to a three-act opera, and would last a lifetime of creativity. In fact, a polka he wrote in his mid-twenties resurfaces in the delightful second movement of his last completed score, the Second String Quartet in D minor. Written against his doctor’s orders and under great physical and mental stress, it is a work so intense in emotion and so concentrated in form that it clearly anticipates the two Janácek quartets, which would surely not have been written as they are without Smetana’s example.

Although he spent only the first half of his life in Czechoslovakia, Martinu never forgot or ceased to yearn for his roots. If there is more Bartók than Smetana in the Fifth String Quartet - the last and much the best of four written in Paris in the 1930s - it is no less personal for that. It is a turbulent work, inspired by the imminent threat of war and the (married) composer’s passion for his pupil Vitézslava Kaprálová. Anxiety pervades the first movement in a sustained fit of jagged rhythms which, however, are overlaid from time to time by achingly expressive lines of Czech melody. The slow movement is more reflective but, haunted as it is by an eerie pizzicato figure, it scarcely eases the situation. Rhythmic anxiety is resumed in the Molto vivace scherzo and continues even through the comparatively lyrical middle section. As the desolate Lento introduction to the last movement suggests and as the ensuing, unshrinking Allegro confirms, there can be no happy ending.

There has long been controversy about the melodic material of the music Dvorák wrote during the three years he spent in America in the early 1890s. Is it Czech in origin or American? Or both? The problem is particularly acute with the so-called “Amercian” Quartet in F major, which was composed on holiday in Spillville, Iowa - “a completely Czech place” according to Dvorák, “where I am very happy.” The two main themes of the first movement - the brisk statement made by the viola in the opening bars and the exquisitely nostalgic second-subject melody - are both pentatonic, which is a feature shared by many primitive musical cultures. While the expressive melody of the Lento is a sort of Czech blues, the second theme of the scherzo is unmistakably American, but only in the sense that it is based on the song of the scarlet tanager noted down on a walk in the woods by the Little Turkey river. The main theme of the closing rondo is another pentatonic tune, this one accompanied on its first appearance by an ostinato pattern dubiously identified as an Indian drum rhythm. And if the thoughtful second episode is an echo of the little organ at St Wenceslas Church in Spilville, as has been claimed, does that make it Cezch or American in inspiration?

How American is the “American” Quartet? It is true that it was written in Spillville, Iowa, when Dvorák was on holiday from his duties as Director of the National Conservatory of Music of America. But Spillville was no ordinary American community. It was a Czech settlement with a general commitment to the Czech language and with its own St Wenceslas Church. Dvorák, reunited at last with a family that had been split between Prague and New York for the last six months, described it as “a completely Czech place…where I am very happy.”

Like the “New World” Symphony, the “American” Quartet reflects in musical terms the curious national ambiguity of a little Bohemia in the mid-west. American commentators have found just as much evidence to claim a native or black American origin for certain themes as have Czech commentators to claim a Bohemian origin for the same themes. The fact is that pentatonic melody is common to many primitive cultures. A Czech composer immersed in his own national music and interested too in spirituals and Indian dances might be expected to blend the influences into something which has its own integrity and its own beauty.

The two main themes of the first movement of the “American” Quartet are both pentatonic - the brisk statement made by the viola in the opening bars, under quiet violin tremolandos, and the exquisitely nostalgic second-subject melody whispered by first violin over sustained harmonies in the rest of the ensemble. This last is not so much a theme as an expression of atmosphere, since it cannot be developed - the middle part of the movement is devoted mainly to the first subject - and can only be repeated or, when the cello has it in the recapitulation, slightly reshaped.

Whatever its source, American or Bohemian, the expressive melody of the Lento is given Dvorak’s undivided attention throughout. Everything is arranged to present it in its most alluring colours - played by first violin or cello against an unbroken murmuring background on viola - to extend it and to develop its expressive potential in the middle section. It makes a last appearance in D minor on the cello accompanied by quiet chords, alternately plucked and bowed, on the other three instruments.

The second theme of the F major scherzo, presented high on the E-string of the first violin over an ostinato accompaniment, is based on the song of the scarlet tanager that the composer noted down on a walk in the woods by the Little Turkey river. Until Czech ornithologists find a bird on their own territory with a similar song this must be a point in favour of the Americans. The pentatonic first theme remains common property, however, and so do the F minor variants which so effectively offset it in the two trio sections.

The main theme of the last movement, a rondo in F major, is another pentatonic tune, this one accompanied on its first appearance by an ostinato pattern somewhat dubiously identified as an Indian drum rhythm. The same rhythm persists on second violin and viola through much of the lyrical first episode in A flat major. It then disappears and remains out of hearing during the first return of the rondo theme and a thoughtful second episode which is said to be an echo of the little organ in St Wenceslas Church. The dancing rhythm reappears only at a point half-way through the recapitulation, on the recall of the first episode, but for no more than a few bars before it is swept aside by an increasingly vigorous and sonorous coda.

Rupert Avis©2002