String Quartet in E flat major, Op.44 No.3 (1838)

The first movement of the Quartet in E flat is one of the most subtle of all Mendelssohn’s constructions. Following a Haydn precedent perhaps, he takes one tiny motif - the five-note flourish heard on a violin in the very first bar - and threads it through the texture in such a way that it is there most of the time on one instrument or another. Like Haydn again, he avoids a clearly defined second subject. But then he has a different idea. Briefly, towards the end of the exposition, the first violin tentatively suggests a new theme as a kind of afterthought. Although no one gives it much attention at this point, that theme grows in importance in the development, where it is reintroduced and expanded by an eloquent cello, and it takes its due place in the recapitulation.

The least predictable of Mendelssohn’s first movements is followed by the most intricate of his scherzos. While it depends for its consistency on the rapidly articulated staccato quavers of the main theme, it is held together by the repeated notes which introduce it and which echo throughout at every dynamic level and in a variety of instrumental colours. In the superlative circumstances, it is fitting that the Adagio non troppo should be one of the most extended slow movements in the six quartets. What gives the movement its depth is a middle section based on a theme similar to (though not quite the same as) the personal motto theme used by Bach in his Art of Fugue and by countless other composers since. It is given appropriate contrapuntal treatment here and recalled alongside the two other main themes at the end.

If there is a miscalculation here it is in the proportions of the concluding Molto allegro con fuoco. Intended no doubt as a tribute to the composer’s favourite violinist, Ferdinand David, who was to take part in the first performance of the work in the Leipzig Gewandhaus in 1838, it is an extraordinary test of stamina and agility - and not only in the first violin part.

The first movement of the Quartet in E flat, the second of the Op.44 set in order of composition, is one of the most subtle of all Mendelssohn’s constructions. Taking a hint from Haydn perhaps, he takes one tiny motif - the five-note flourish heard on a violin in the very first bar - and threads it through the texture in such a way that it is there most of the time on one instrument or another. Like Haydn again, he avoids a clearly defined second subject, introducing a variant of the ubiquitous flourish in its place. But then he has a different idea. Briefly, towards the end of the exposition, over quietly repeated quavers in the inner parts the first violin tentatively suggests a new theme as a kind of afterthought. Although no one gives it much attention at this point, that theme grows in importance in the development, where it is reintroduced and expanded by an eloquent cello, and it takes its due place in the recapitulation.

The least predictable of Mendelssohn’s first movements is followed by the most intricate of his scherzos. Although it depends for its consistency on the rapidly articulated staccato quavers of the main theme, it is held together by the repeated notes which introduce it and which echo throughout at every dynamic level and in a variety of instrumental colours. Two other themes are deftly worked in - one in detached phrases introduced by the viola and taken up by the others in canon, the other a contrastingly sustained melodic line drawn by first violin or by viola and cello against continuing quaver activity and repeated notes elsewhere in the texture.

In the superlative circumstances, it is fitting that the Adagio non troppo should be one of the most extended slow movements in the six quartets. While it does not amount to a confession like the Adagio of Op.80, it is intimately and anxiously expressive in the wayward harmonies of its opening theme and yet reassuring in the more open melody introduced as a second subject by second violin and viola over an undulating bass line on the cello. But what gives the movement its depth is a middle section based on a theme similar to (though not quite the same as) the personal motto theme used by Bach in his Art of Fugue and by countless other composers since then. It is given appropriate contrapuntal treatment here and recalled alongside the two other main themes at the end.

If there is a miscalculation in Op.44 No.3 it is in the proportions of the concluding Molto allegro con fuoco. Intended no doubt as a tribute to the composer’s favourite violinist, Ferdinand David, who was to take part in the first performance of the work in the Leipzig Gewandhaus in 1838, it is an extraordinary test of stamina and agility - and not only in the first violin part. While exerting most of its pressure by through the hectic figuration, the rondo construction does two or three episodes of comparatively lyrical respite - the last of them just before a coda of surpassing virtuoso brilliance.