Moments Musicaux, Op.94 (D.780)

Under a title even less intimidating than Impromptu - suggesting something shorter and less speculative perhaps - Schubert’s Moments Musicaux were accepted for publication almost as soon as they were written. It is true that the longest of the eight Impromptus are four or five times as long as the shortest of the Moments musicaux. On the other hand, while there might not be anything in the Moments musicaux as profoundly beautiful as the Impromptu in G flat or as dramatic as the Impromptu in F minor, there are emotional and intellectual insights here too, not least in No. 2 in A flat major.

In the first of the Moments musicaux - surely a song rather than the minuet it is regularly declared to be - Schubert seems to be imposing a limitation on himself. Certainly, the C major arpeggio presented in bare octaves as the main theme is not the most promising material for development. At a fairly early stage, however, B major harmonies effect an intriguingly peevish intrusion and later, in a poetically coloured middle section in G major, a simple change to the minor casts an unexpected shadow over the piece.

Whether Schubert found the theme of the opening section of the Andantino in A flat in Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A, K.331, or in some folksong source available to both of them, his more spacious treatment of the melody, his early apprehension of the tonic minor and his modulation to a key as distant as F sharp minor for the second section of the piece - an ardent little elegy - are entirely characteristic. The dramatically abrupt modulation on the passionate second entry of the elegy is something only Schubert could have thought of.

Like the eight Impromptus, most of the Moments musicaux date from 1827. Two them were written three or four years earlier, however, as contributions to popular Christmas albums published by Sauer & Leidesdorf in Vienna. The titles given to them on their first publication, Air russe for No.3 in F minor and Plaintes d’un troubadour for No.6 in A flat, were presumably not Schubert’s own. The delightful little Allegro moderato in F minor - which has a close but more developed relation in the Impromptu in F minor - he would surely have thought of more as a Hungarian dance than as a Russian song. Either way, this “Slavic or Hungarian trait,” as Dvorak described it, was another progressive feature welcomed by Schubert’s successors.

When Schubert died in 1828 he was just beginning to make an impression on Viennese publishers as a composer of piano music. Three of his sonatas had recently appeared in print and there was a growing demand not only for his dances but also for more thoughtful pieces like the Impromptus and the rather shorter Moments Musicaux. Two of the latter were first issued in Sauer & Leidesdorf’s Christmas albums under fanciful titles - No.3 in F minor as Air russe in 1823, No.6 in A flat as Plaintes d’un Troubadour in 1824 - and it was for the same publisher that he wrote four more pieces in the same vein to complete a set of six Moments Musicaux in 1827.

The first of the Moments Musicaux is usually described as a minuet. But, a character study rather than a dance, it is too eccentric for that. As it proceeds and the C major arpeggio presented in bare octaves as the main theme assumes more harmonic and textural interest, it develops its own distinctive personality – wistful but sometimes peevish and briefly, in the central episode of the middle section, despondent.

The Air russe title attached to the delightful little Allegretto moderato in F minor by Sauer & Leidesdorf was presumably not Schubert’s own. He would surely have thought of it more as a Hungarian dance than as a Russian song. Either way, this “Slavic or Hungarian trait” - not even Dvorák was sure about it - so intrigued Schubert that he took it up again and developed it further in his last Impromptu (also in F minor) a year later. In this context, with or without the intervening Moderato in C sharp minor, the short but dynamic Allegro vivo in F minor, with its reckless driving rhythms and its demonic harmonies, comes as a shock – which is scarcely mitigated by the late change to the major.

The last of the Moments Musicaux, a gentle Allegretto in A flat major, is commonly described as a minuet - like the first in C minor, but even less helpfully in this case. The Sauer & Leidesdorf Christmas album title of Plaintes d’un Troubadour at least acknowledged its song-like rather than dance-like character. Not plaintive enough to qualify as a lament but falling well short of serenity in spite of the comparative security of its D flat major middle section, it is wistfully poised somewhere between the two.

If there is any difference between Impromptu and Moment musical it can only be that the latter title implies a shorter piece and, in consequence perhaps, one that is comparatively limited in its expressive scope. And it is true that the longest of Schubert’s Impromptus are four or five times as long as the shortest of his Moments musicaux. On the other hand, while the two Moments musicaux in F minor are scarcely more than just moments, the other four are all longer than the shortest of the Impromptus. As for the expressive scope of the Moments musicaux, while there might not be anything as profoundly beautiful as the Impromptu in G flat or as dramatic as the Impromptu in F minor, there are emotional and intellectual insights here too, above all in No. 2 in A flat and No.4 in C sharp minor.

In the first of the Moments musicaux – surely a song rather than the minuet it is regularly declared to be – Schubert seems to be imposing a limitation on himself. Certainly, the C major arpeggio presented in bare octaves as the main theme is not the most promising material for development. At a fairly early stage, however, B major harmonies effect an intriguingly peevish intrusion and later, in a poetically coloured middle section in G major, a simple change to the minor casts an unexpected shadow over the piece.

Whether Schubert found the theme of the opening section of the Andantino in A flat in Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A K.331 or in some folksong source available to both of them, his more spacious treatment of the melody, his early apprehension of the tonic minor and his modulation to a key as distant as F sharp minor for the second section of the piece – an ardent little elegy – are entirely characteristic. The dramatically abrupt modulation on the passionate second entry of the elegy is something only Schubert could have thought of.

Like the eight Impromptus, most of the Moments musicaux date from 1827. Two them were written three or four years earlier, however, as contributions to popular Christmas albums published by Sauer & Leidesdorf in Vienna. The titles given to them on their first publication,    Air russe for No.3 in F minor and Plaintes d’un troubadour for No.6 in A flat, were presumably not Schubert’s own. The delightful little Allegro moderato in F minor – which has a close but more developed relation in the Impromptu in F minor – he would surely have thought of more as a Hungarian dance than as a Russian song.

Perhaps the most ingenious of the Moments musicaux is No.4 in C sharp minor, which presents two apparently antithetical episodes – a kind of baroque prelude in C sharp minor and a gentle berceuse in D flat major – and then effects a discreetly congenial reconciliation between them. The Allegro vivace No.5, on the other hand, is an obstinately single-minded moment in F minor propelled by a rhythmic energy with something of the later Brahms in it.

The Plaintes d’un troubadour title originally attached to the Allegretto in A flat was inspired, presumably, by the dying fall of its three-chord main theme. It does not take into account the most remarkable quality of the piece, which is that its mood, like its theme, is constantly developing. Long before the comparatively cheerful middle section in D flat major, the initially plaintive cadence assumes a variety of harmonic and melodic identities, most strikingly in a serene little episode in E major.           

When Schubert died in 1828 he was just beginning to make an impression on Viennese publishers as a composer of piano music. Three of his sonatas had recently appeared in print, which was a major break-through for him, and there was a growing demand not only for his dances, which he could produce by the dozen, but also for more thoughtful pieces like the Impromptus and the rather shorter Moments Musicaux. Two of the latter were first issued in Sauer & Leidesdorf’s Christmas albums under fanciful titles - No.3 in F minor as Air russe in 1823, No.6 in A flat as Plaintes d’un Troubadour in 1824 - and it was for the same publisher that he wrote four more pieces in the same vein to complete a set of six Moments Musicaux in 1827.

The first of the Moments Musicaux – or Moments Musicals as they were titled in embarrassingly approximate French when they were first issued in 1828 – is usually described as a minuet. But, a character study rather than a dance, it is too eccentric for that. As it proceeds and the C major arpeggio presented in bare octaves as the main theme assumes more harmonic and textural interest, it develops its own distinctive personality. At a fairly early stage B major harmonies effect an intriguingly peevish intrusion and later, in a poetic middle section in G major, a simple change to the minor casts an unexpected shadow over the piece.

Whether Schubert found the theme of the opening section of the Andantino in A flat in Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A, K.331, or in some folk-song source available to both of them, his more spacious treatment of the melody, his early apprehension of the tonic minor and his modulation to a key as distant as F sharp minor for the second section of the piece – an ardent little elegy – are entirely characteristic. The dramatically abrupt modulation on the passionate second entry of the elegy is something only Schubert could have thought of.

The Air russe title attached to the delightful little Allegretto moderato in F minor in Sauer & Leidesdorf’s Christmas album in 1823 was presumably not Schubert’s own. He would surely have thought of it more as a Hungarian dance than as a Russian song. Either way, this “Slavic or Hungarian trait” – not even Dvorak was sure about it – so intrigued Schubert that he took it up again and developed it further in his last Impromptu (also in F minor) a year later.

Moment Musical No.4 in C sharp minor is rare in Schubert’s music in that it offers a clear echo of J.S. Bach – but Bach heard in a romantic context, which makes it a no less clear anticipation of Chopin. The central lullaby in D flat major is such an extreme contrast to the baroque-inspired outer sections that it seems impossible that the two could be reconciled in a piece as short as this. In a mere five-bar coda, however, by recalling no more than a fragment of each, Schubert achieves just that. There is another hint of Bach keyboard figuration, though a brief one in this case, in No.5 in F minor which, however, in its reckless driving rhythms and its demonic harmonies is more an expression of personal anguish than a study in style.

The last of the Moments Musicaux, a gentle Allegretto in A flat major, is commonly described as a minuet – like the first in C minor, but even less helpfully in this case. The Sauer & Leidesdorf Christmas album title of Plaintes d’un Troubadour at least acknowledged its song-like rather than dance-like character. Not plaintive enough to qualify as a lament but falling well short of serenity in spite of the comparative security of its D flat major middle section, it is wistfully poised somewhere between the two. The poignant harmonic ambiguity is preserved up to the non-committal octaves at the very end.