String Quartet in F major, Op.77, No.2

When Haydn’s two Lobkowitz Quartets were published in 1802, Beethoven’s Op.18 set, dedicated to the same princely patron, was already on the market. To those who admired the younger composer’s work the first movement of Haydn’s Quartet in F major must have seemed conventional in its old-fashioned graciousness and perhaps even over-economical in the use of a close variant of the opening theme as a second subject. But Haydn is interested not so much in those events as in the activity that comes between them. The development section is devoted almost exclusively to that apparently less engaging material, which actually turns out to be so gripping that it leads the tonality through an extraordinary series of enharmonic modulations.

Although it is labelled as a Menuetto, the second movement is an unmistakable and ingeniously contrived scherzo, its duple-time main theme wittily contradicting the underlying triple-time metre and so generating all kinds of rhythmic anomalies. The slow movement, like the first, is based on just one theme. But is it really a slow movement, or a march perhaps? And is it a theme and variations or a rondo? Whatever it is, its melodic interest is such that, given the abundant variety of contrapuntal and harmonic treatment Haydn applies to its seductively drawn line, it can safely be presented several times over.

Haydn’s last quartet finale is also one of his most resourceful. Another monothematic construction, it is so ingeniously put together, with all four instruments tirelessly involved in unfailingly imaginative contrapuntal activity, that it seems that there is just no room for any subject other than the bright little tune introduced by the first violin in the opening bars and the polonaise rhythm that goes with it.

When Haydn’s two Lobkowitz Quartets were first published in 1802, Beethoven’s Op.18 set, dedicated to the same princely patron, were already on the market. To those who admired the younger composer’s work the first movement of Haydn’s Quartet in F major must have seemed conventional in the old fashioned graciousness of its double-dotted opening theme and perhaps even over-economical in the use of a close variant of the same theme as a second subject. But Haydn is interested not so much in those events as in the activity that comes between them. The development section is devoted almost exclusively to that apparently less engaging material, which actually turns out to be so gripping that it leads the tonality through an extraordinary series of enharmonic modulations. A general pause is necessary to clear the air before the recapitulation can graciously begin.

Although it is labelled as a Menuetto the second movement is an unmistakable and ingeniously contrived scherzo, its duple-time main theme wittily contradicting the underlying triple-time metre and so generating all kinds of rhythmic anomalies. The smoothly articulated Trio, which is often taken at a slightly slower tempo, usefully offsets the eccentricities on either side of it.

The slow movement is based on just one theme. But is it really a slow movement, or a march perhaps, or something in between? And is it a theme and variations or a rondo or, again, something in between? The Andante theme might be better described as a stroll than as a march. Whatever it is, its melodic interest is such that, given the abundant variety of contrapuntal and harmonic treatment Haydn applies to its seductively drawn line, it can safely be presented several times over.

Haydn’s last quartet finale is also one of his most brilliant. Another monothematic construction, it is so resourcefully put together, with all four instruments tirelessly involved in unfailingly imaginative contrapuntal activity, that it seems that there is just no room for any other subject than the bright little tune introduced by the first violin in the opening bars and the polonaise rhythm that goes with it.

After his return to Vienna from his second visit to London in 1795 Haydn devoted himself almost exclusively to large-scale vocal music: the last six Masses and the two great oratorios, The Creation and The Seasons, were all written within the next seven years. Happily, however, although he refused to undertake any more symphonies or sonatas, he was still interested in the string quartet. He supplied Count Erdödy with a full set of six quartets in no more than a few months in 1797 and two years later he undertook to write another set for Prince Lobkowitz - although in this case, his time and his energy having been consumed by problems with The Seasons, he had to give up half way though the third work in the series.

“Gone is all my strength,” he wrote on the last page of his unfinished last quartet in 1803, “old and weak am I.” But he was surely not short of ideas. Certainly, there is no sign of decline in the two Lobkowitz Quartets he had found time to complete three years earlier. In the old-fashioned graciousness of its double-dotted opening theme, the first movement of the Quartet in F major, Op.77 No.2, must have seemed fairly conventional to Haydn’s contemporaries, while those who knew the composer well would not have been surprised to hear a close variant of the same theme presented by the second violin as a second subject. But Haydn is interested not so much in those events as in the activity that comes between them - the vigorous exchange of semi-quaver runs between first violin and viola and the curiously obsessive repeated notes spreading through the ensemble from cello upwards. The development section is devoted almost exclusively to that apparently less engaging material, which actually turns out to be so gripping that it leads the tonality through an extraordinary series of enharmonic modulations. A general pause is necessary to clear the air before the recapitulation can graciously begin.

Although it is labelled as a Menuetto the second movement is an unmistakable and ingeniously contrived scherzo, its duple-time main theme wittily contradicting the underlying triple-time metre and so generating all kinds of rhythmic anomalies. The smoothly articulated Trio, which is often taken at a slightly slower tempo, usefully offsets the eccentricities on either side of it.

Those who knew Haydn would not have been surprised either to find that the slow movement is based on just one theme. But is it really a slow movement, or a march perhaps, or something in between? And is it a theme and variations or a rondo or, again, something in between? The Andante theme, which is introduced by the first violin mezzo voce over the regular tread of the cello, might be better described as a stroll than as a march. Whatever it is, its melodic interest is such that, given the abundant variety of contrapuntal and harmonic treatment Haydn applies to its seductively drawn line, it can safely be presented several times over - most effectively of all perhaps by the cello, at least until it is interrupted by a dramatic cadenza from a first violin eager to undertake one more, very quiet. statement of the theme.

Haydn’s last quartet finale - if, that is, the two Op.77 works were written in the order in which they were published - is also one of his most brilliant. Another monothematic construction, it is so resourcefully put together, with all four instruments tirelessly involved in unfailingly imaginative contrapuntal activity, that it seems that there is just no room for any other subject than the bright little tune introduced by the first violin in the opening bars and the polonaise rhythm that goes with it.