Four Impromptus, D.899 (Op.90)

Impromptu in B flat major D935 (Op.142) No.3

Of Schubert’s eight Impromptus, written in two sets of four each in the second half of 1827, only two were published in the composer’s lifetime. The Viennese publisher Haslinger announced that he would be issuing the first set at the end of 1827 but, disappointed by the sales of the first two, he held the others back for as long thirty years, by when there was a keen interest in Schubert’s music. Even then he let the composer down by printing the third Impromptu not in the original G flat but in what he considered the more approachable key of G and changed the unusual but meaningful 4/2 time signature to 2/2. A wonderfully sustained song not quite without words – it is closely related to Schubert’s Schlegel setting Die Gebüsche – it retains its characteristic broken chord accompaniment between melodic line and bass line from the first bar to the last. In spite of its seamless continuity, however, there is a clearly defined middle section where, stirred by the change of harmony to E flat minor, the left hand joins in a passionate duet with the right.

The Andante in B flat major from the second set, which was published in 1839, is the most extended of the Impromptus and one of the most popular. The one example of variation form among them, it is based on a melody Schubert had used twice before, in the B flat Entracte in the Rosamunde incidental music and the Andante of the String Quartet in A minor. In both of those work it is integrated with other material. Here it is the solo inspiration of the lilting rhythms of the first variation, the polonaise allusions of the second, the heroic character of the third in B flat minor, the contrastingly capricious nature of the fourth and the uncharacteristic virtuoso brilliance of the fifth.

The Impromptu title was not, in the first place, Schubert’s idea. We do not know what he called these four pieces when he sent them to Haslinger in 1827 but it was the publisher who, inspired perhaps by the recent success of Vorisek’s Impromptus, applied the title under which they are now known. Schubert clearly had no objection to it, however, since later in the same year he sent the same publisher a similar set of pieces which he himself described as Impromptus Nos.5 to 8, clearly intending that they should be part of the same series. Haslinger, however, was so cautious that he issued only the first two of the first set, as Op.90, and shelved the two others. They appeared in print only in 1857, eighteen years after the second set had been published as Op.142.

Haslinger’s nervousness is understandable. Although the Impromptu title suggests something short and uncomplicated – which was certainly Chopin’s interpretation of the term – some of Schubert’s Impromptus are longer than most of the sonata movements. Taken together, in fact, the four Impromptus D.899 take longer to play than all but two or three of the sonatas. As and indication of the spontaneity of their inspiration, however, the Impromptu title could scarcely be more appropriate.

The first of the two published in 1827, the Impromptu in C minor, is a miracle of spontaneous development, its march-like theme recurring literally dozens of times and yet scarcely ever in a form in which it has been heard before. Unpredictable as to which key it will alight on next, it is similarly unpredictable in mood: the same theme can be grim in C minor, expansively luxuriating in A flat or G major, melancholy in G minor. Indeed, it is only in the last few bars that, after much vacillation, it settles for a mutedly happy ending in C major.

The other three Impromptus in the present set are all in ternary form with dramatically contrasting middle sections. The triplet figuration of the Allegro in E flat runs on without interruption, though not always as cheerfully as it begins, towards an abrupt modulation to B minor for the belligerent middle section. Although it is only briefly recalled after the reprise of the first section, the B minor material secures an unexpectedly grim ending in E flat minor.

The Andante in G flat is a wonderfully sustained song not quite without words – it is closely related to Schubert’s Schlegel setting, Die Gebüsche – which retains its characteristic broken chord accompaniment between melodic line and bass line from the first bar to the last. In spite of its seamless continuity, however, there is a clearly defined middle section where, stirred by the change of harmony to E flat minor, the left hand joins in a passionate duet with the right.

Structurally, the Allegretto in A flat major seems to be little different from the Allegro in E flat major. In fact, it is its exact opposite in the sense that the charming melodious first section remains quite unaffected by the dramatic and recklessly modulating middle section in C sharp minor. On its reprise it waltzes unconcernedly towards the A flat major ending as though nothing had happened in the meantime.

Although Schubert’s piano sonatas – only three of which were published during his lifetime – gradually became available during the course of the nineteenth century, they long remained unrecognised as the masterpieces that so many of them are. Schumann failed to understand the special quality of the last three in the series when Diabelli published them in 1838 and considered them outclassed by among other things “many of his small songs and piano compositions.” Fifty-six years later another great Schubert admirer, Antonin Dvorák, noted that his piano sonatas “are never played at concerts” and judged that he was “not at his best” here. “To Schubert,” Dvorak concluded, “belongs the chief credit of originating the short models of pianoforte pieces which the romantic school has preferably cultivated. His Moments Musicaux are unique, and it may be said that in the Third Impromptu (Op.90) lie the germs of the whole of Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words.”

The irony is that the Impromptus and the Moments musicaux were intended primarily to attract the attention of publishers who took little interest in the sonatas, which Schubert himself regarded as far more important. The other irony is that they are not so very short: some of the Moments musicaux are longer than some of the Impromptus and some of the Impromptus longer than most of the sonata movements. Taken together, the four Impromptus of D.899 take longer to play than all but two or three of the sonatas - which is no doubt why, having accepted them for publication as soon as they were written in 1827, Haslinger was so cautious as to issue only two of them. Presumably because they did not sell very well, uncommonly inspired though they are, the other two were shelved and remained unpublished until 1857.

The first of the two published in 1827, the Impromptu in C minor, is a miracle of spontaneous development, its march-like theme recurring literally dozens of times and yet scarcely ever in a form in which it has been heard before. Unpredictable as to which key it will alight on next, it is similarly unpredictable in mood: the same theme can be grim in C minor, expansively luxuriating in A flat or G major, melancholy in G minor. Indeed, it is only in the last few bars that, after much vacillation, it settles for a mutedly happy ending in C major.

The other three Impromptus in the present set are all in ternary form with dramatically contrasting middle sections. The triplet figuration of the Allegro in E flat runs on without interruption, though not always as cheerfully as it begins, towards an abrupt modulation to B minor for the belligerent middle section. Although it is only briefly recalled after the reprise of the first section, the B minor material secures an unexpectedly grim ending in E flat minor.

The Andante in G flat is a wonderfully sustained song not quite without words - it is closely related to Schubert’s Schlegel setting Die Gebüsche - which retains its characteristic broken chord accompaniment between melodic line and bass line from the first bar to the last. In spite of its seamless continuity, however, there is a clearly defined middle section where, stirred by the change of harmony to E flat minor, the left hand joins in a passionate duet with the right.

Structurally, the Allegretto in A flat major seems to be little different from the Allegro in E flat major. In fact, it is its exact opposite in the sense that the charming melodious first section remains quite unaffected by the dramatic and recklessly modulating middle section in C sharp minor. On its reprise it waltzes unconcernedly towards the A flat major ending as though nothing had happened in the meantime.