Terzetto in C major Op.74 (1887)

The Terzetto in C major was written in 1887 for an amateur violinist ambitious enough to want to make music not only with his violin teacher but also with his near neighbour in Zitna Street in Prague, none other than the composer and violist Antonin Dvorák. If Kruis was disappointed to find that most of it was too difficult for him he might have been consoled by the thought that he had been responsible for the creation of a work like no other in the repertoire. Far from attempting to solve the obvious problem of the medium by treating the viola as an undersized cello and relegating it to the bass line, Dvorák devised a mainly contrapuntal texture for the three instruments on something like equal terms.

The Terzetto in C major was written in 1887 for an amateur violinist ambitious enough to want to make music not only with his violin teacher but also with his near neighbour in Zitna Street in Prague, the composer and violist Antonin Dvorák. If Josef Kruis was disappointed to find that most of it was too difficult for him he might have been consoled by the thought that he had been responsible for the creation of a work like none other in the repertoire. Dvorák did not attempt to solve the obvious problem of the medium by treating the viola as an undersized cello and relegating it to the bass line. The texture is for the most part a contrapuntal exchange of the three instruments on something like equal terms.

The Allegro non troppo introduction is a particularly well integrated example both in the modestly interweaving lines of the outer sections and in the high-profile three-part texture of the central section. The Larghetto is different in that it, except in the aggressive interchange of dotted-rhythm figuration in the middle, it concentrates for the most part on the lyrical quality of the theme introduced by the first violin. The vigorously made rhythmic point of the A minor Scherzo is that one of the three instruments, usually in double-stopped thirds or sixths, is set in a duple-time dance step against a triple-time accompaniment in the other two parts. Economy on textural enterprise here offsets the extraordinary colouring and strained relations of the three instruments in the highly eccentric variations inspired by the theme Dvorák so unpromisingly presents at the beginning of the last movement.

Op.74 (1887)

for two violins and viola

Introduzione: allegro ma non troppo -

Larghetto

Scherzo: vivace - Trio: poco meno mosso

Tema con variazioni : poco adagio - molto allegro

Antonin Dvorák (1841-1904)

Terzetto in C major Op.74 (1887)

for two violins and viola

Introduzione: allegro ma non troppo -

Larghetto

Scherzo: vivace - Trio: poco meno mosso

Tema con variazioni : poco adagio - molto allegro

The Terzetto in C major was written January 1887 for an amateur violinist ambitious enough to want to make music not only with his violin teacher but also with his near neighbour in Zitna Street in Prague, the composer and violist Antonin Dvorák. If Josef Kruis was disappointed to find,when the score was delivered, that most of the Terzetto was too difficult for him, he was more than adequately compensated by the rather less ambitious but no less attractive Miniatures Op.75 which Dvorák wrote for the same three instruments a few days later.

Kruis might also have been consoled by the thought that he had been responsible for the creation of a work like none other in the repertoire. Perhaps because the composer himself was to be involved as violist in the first performance of the Terzetto, he did not attempt to solve the obvious problem of the medium by treating the viola as an undersized cello and relegating it to the bass line. The texture is for the most part a contrapuntal exchange of the three instruments on something like equal terms, with the viola only marginally more likely to be heard in an accompanying role than either of the violins.

The Allegro non troppo introduction is a particularly well integrated example, both in the modestly interweaving lines of the outer sections and in the high-profile three-part texture of the central section. The Larghetto (which follows without a break) is different in that, except in the aggressive interchange of dotted-rhythm figuration in the middle, it concentrates on the lyrical quality of the theme introduced by the first violin in E major – which means that, whatever instrument takes the melodic line, the interest of the other two parts is inevitably reduced.

The vigorously made rhythmic point of the A minor Scherzo is that one of the three instruments, usually in double-stopped thirds or sixths, is set in a duple-time dance step against a triple-time accompaniment in the other two parts. So there is little room for counterpoint, and there is not much more in the succession of duets in the comparatively serene A major trio section. But if the composer economises on textural enterprise here it is surely to offset the extraordinary colouring and strained relations of the three instruments in the highly eccentric variations inspired by the theme he so unpromisingly presents at the beginning of the last movement. Could Dvorák – one is irresistibly tempted to ask on hearing the violin recitative towards the end – be suspected of indulging, just between friends, in an affectionate parody of late Beethoven?