String Quartet in A minor D.804 “Rosamunde”

“My peace is gone, my heart is heavy.” Those words from Schubert’s song Gretchen am Spinnrade, quoted by the composer in a letter to a friend, inevitably come to mind in the opening bars of the String Quartet in A minor which he was writing at about the same time. The fact that the Andante shares a theme with the Rosamunde incidental music is less significant. More to the point is the allusion on the the cello at the beginning of the Menuetto to another song Die Götter Griechenlands. “Beautiful word, where are you?” it asks. Not that the finale has the time to answer.

letter to a friend, inevitably come to mind in the opening bars of the String Quartet in A minor which he was writing at about the same time. The fact that the Andante shares a theme with the Rosamunde incidental music is less significant. More to the point is the relationship between the phrase on the the cello at the beginning of the Menuetto and Schubert’s Schiller setting Die Götter Griechenlands. “Beautiful word, where are you?” it asks. In the end, however, the question is just pushed aside in the effervescent closing bars of the finale.

‘I feel that I am the most unhappy and wretched creature in the world… “My peace is gone, my heart is heavy, I shall find it never and nevermore,” I may well sing every day now.’ It is impossible not to associate that passage in a letter from Schubert with the String Quartet in A minor which he was writing at about the same time. The words quoted are from Goethe’s Gretchen am Spinnrade which he had set to music ten years earlier and which inevitably comes to mind in the opening bars of the Allegro ma non troppo. The fact that the Andante shares a theme with the Rosamunde incidental music is less significant. The relationship between the short phrase on the bottom string of the cello at the beginning of the Menuetto, however, and Schubert’s Schiller setting Die Götter Griechenlands cannot be accidental. The opening line of the song “Schöne Welt, wo bist du?” (Beautiful word, where are you?) is a clear reflection of another phrase in that unhappy letter from a composer “whose enthusiasm for all things beautiful threatens to vanish.” Although the Allegro moderato begins with a comparatively cheerful march tune in A major, it is by no means certain that it will end that way. The crisis comes when progress is halted by a dramatic gesture on the three upper instruments and a repeated phrase low on the cello which seems to be asking the same question as that which opened the previous movement. In the end, however, the question is just pushed aside in the effervescent closing bars.

‘I feel that I am the most unhappy and wretched creature in the world. Imagine a man whose health will never be right again… whose most brilliant hopes have come to nothing…whose enthusiasm for all things beautiful threatens to vanish, and ask yourself, is he not a miserable, unhappy being? - “My peace is gone, my heart is heavy, I shall find it never and nevermore,” I may well sing every day now.’ It is impossible not to associate that passage in a letter Schubert addressed to a friend in March 1824 with the String Quartet in A minor which he was writing at about the same time. The relationship between the two is not just a general similarity of mood: it is quite precisely defined by allusions in the Quartet to two of the composer’s own songs.

The words quoted in the letter are from Goethe’s Gretchen am Spinnrade which Schubert had set to music in 1814 and which inevitably comes to mind in the opening bars of the Allegro ma non troppo. Although the theme heard on first violin has little in common with the vocal line of the song, the minor harmonies and the restless accompaniment figure introduced by an anxious second violin are much the same in the two works. The pathos is sustained throughout, though not by insisting on unrelieved minor keys. One of the most touching features of the movement is its speculations on illusory major keys, like the A major assumed by the main theme on a later appearance and, after an angry transitional passage, the C major in which the second subject is presented on second violin (with the undulating accompaniment figure now transferred to a not so anxious viola). Although the development section ignores the second subject and lets in little radiance on the first, there is still room for hope in the recapitulation when the second subject reappears in A major. But, as the coda confirms by recalling the unhappy first subject in A minor yet again, that too is illusory.

The fact that the Andante shares a theme with the Rosamunde incidental music is not very significant, particularly since it is not entirely certain for which work it was originally conceived. It is more to the point that the C major innocence carried by that theme, which is virtually the sole source of melodic interest here, is so vulnerable to harmonic corruption and, in the vigorously contrapuntal middle section, subject to actual violence.

The relationship between the short phrase on the bottom string of the cello at the beginning of the A minor Menuetto and Schubert’s Schiller setting Die Götter Griechenlands cannot be accidental. The opening line of the song “Schöne Welt, wo bist du?” (Beautiful word, where are you?) is a clear reflection of a phrase in the letter written in March 1824 by a composer “whose enthusiasm for all things beautiful threatens to vanish.” Indeed, the opening bars, based on the notes that go with the first three syllables of the song, express such a sense of loss that the designation of the movement as a Menuetto seems almost ironic. Not even the A major Trio section, which is introduced by a variant of those three notes, can escape the suggestion of nostalgia.

Although the Allegro moderato begins with a comparatively cheerful march tune in A major, it is by no means certain that it will end that way. At a fairly early stage in the movement the main theme entertains doubts about its harmonic and rhythmic identity and the introduction    of a second subject in C sharp minor does nothing to maintain confidence in a happy outcome. The crisis occurs in the middle of the construction where, after a brilliantly contrapuntal development, progress is halted by a dramatic gesture on the three upper instruments and a repeated phrase low on the cello which, though its figuration derives from the main theme, seems to be asking the same question as that which opened the previous movement. However, in spite of the recapitulation of the second subject in F sharp minor, the question is just pushed aside in the effervescent closing bars.