String Quartet in C major Op.20 No.2 (Hob.III.32) (1772)

Once celebrated as the “Sun” Quartets – primarily because of the illustration on the frontispiece of the edition published by Hummel in Berlin in 1779 – Haydn’s Op.20 is now seriously overshadowed by later sets from Op.33 and, particularly, Op.54 onwards. It is not, however, eclipsed by them. Although a new day for chamber music dawned in 1770 with Haydn’s Op.9 set which, as he acknowledged, established the basics of modern string-quartet form and texture, consistently brilliant light is shed on them by Op.20

In the C major Quartet, in fact, the composer is so confident of the validity of his textural and structural developments that he sets out to challenge them. The first movement for example begins as a string trio in two different formats, with the cello carrying the theme in the first case and the first violin in the other. It is only on the third entry of the main theme, now on second violin, that all the instruments of the quartet are heard at once. Although the elaborately scored second subject is in the usual four parts, the development section, which is devoted largely to the first theme, toys with trio textures on a bar-by-bar basis. In the much abbreviated recapitulation, however, normal quartet behaviour is resumed.

With so much of its first half scored in loud unisons and octaves the Adagio is no less adventurous in texture. The declamatory theme introduced in this way in the opening bars assumes a more personal aspect when it twice, though briefly on each occasion, passes to the cello under a throbbing accompaniment on the other instruments. A more engaging contrast is reserved for what one might take to be the middle section of the movement, where a lovely cantabile melody is presented by first violin and later taken up by second violin.

It turns out, however, not be a middle section since, with scarcely a pause, the Menuetto slips quietly in at the point where the opening Adagio material would be expected to return. After such a radical departure from precedent, cutting one movement short to go straight on to the next, Haydn disorientates his audience still further by introducing a theme with such an uncertain metre that it is not immediately recognisable as the start of a minuet.

Of the three fugal last movements in the Op.20 set this one is an outstanding example of creative virtuosity. Although Haydn calls it a “fugue on four subjects,” it is actually based on two main themes and two counter themes with the gigue-like tune introduced by first violin in the opening bars much the most important. At the same time, far from relying on the ear being able to pick out the fine contrapuntal detail in the pursuit of these themes, Haydn adds another, broader dimension to the structure by getting his instrumentalists to play sotto voce (under their breath) for most of its duration and then to break out in a loud and brilliant coda.

Once celebrated as the “Sun” Quartets – primarily but not only because of the illustration on the frontispiece of the edition published by Hummel in Berlin in 1779 – Haydn’s Op.20 is now seriously overshadowed by later sets from Op.33 and, particularly, Op.54 onwards. It is not, however, eclipsed by them. Having established the basics of the modern string quartet form and texture as early as 1770 in his Op.9 set – as the composer himself was to acknowledge towards the end of his life – and having in the meantime added the Op.17 set, by 1772 all the components of the mature Haydn string quartet were in place.

In the C major Quartet, in fact, the composer is so confident of the validity of his textural and structural developments that he sets out to challenge them. The first movement for example begins as a string trio in two different formats – with the cello carrying the theme above the second violin while the viola takes the bass line, then with the first violin carrying the same theme over its partner while the viola again takes the bass line. It is only on the third entry of the theme, now on second violin, that all the instruments of the quartet are heard at once. Although the elaborately scored second subject is in the usual four parts, the development section, which is devoted largely to the first theme, toys with trio textures on a bar-by-bar basis. In the much abbreviated recapitulation, however, normal quartet behaviour is resumed.

With so much of its first half scored in loud unisons and octaves the Adagio is no less adventurous in texture. The declamatory theme introduced in this way in the opening bars does assume a more personal aspect when it twice, though briefly on each occasion, passes to the cello under a throbbing accompaniment on the other instruments. A more engaging contrast is reserved for what one might take to be the middle section of the movement, where a lovely cantabile melody is presented by first violin and later taken up by second violin. It turns out, however, not be a middle section since, with scarcely a pause, the Menuetto slips quietly in at the point where the opening Adagio material would be expected to return.

After such a radical departure from precedent, cutting one movement short to go straight on to the next, Haydn disorientates his audience still further by introducing a theme with such an uncertain metre that it is not immediately recognisable as the start of a minuet. Once the minuet identity is established, the first violin sets itself free from the quartet texture in a flight towards the top of its range – an aerial fantasy which it excels a little later and which is balanced to some extent by the cello solo in the middle section.

Of the three fugal last movements in the Op.20 set this one is an outstanding example of creative virtuosity. Although Haydn calls it a “fugue on four subjects,” it is actually based on two main themes and two counter themes with the gigue-like tune introduced by first violin in the opening bars much the most important. This is not to say that the other themes, like the one following on viola, are insignificant but it is the first that leads the way through the ingeniously constructed contrapuntal maze, even when it is turned upside down in the middle of the movement. Far from relying on the ear being able to pick out the fine detail, however, Haydn adds another, clearer dimension to the process by having the quartet play sotto voce (under its breath) for most of its duration and then break out in a loud and brilliant coda, finally abandoning counterpoint for emphatic unisons in the closing bars.