String Quartet in A major Op.41 No3 (1842)

Of Schumann’s three String Quartets, the third in A major is surely the most original. It is as though, having paid all due respect to Mendelssohn and Beethoven in the first two, he could now make a different approach to the form. Although it derives from Beethoven, the first melodic phrase, a sighing falling fifth, makes the whole of the first movement an intimately personal confession. The construction of the Assai agitato variations is unprecedented, as is that of the Finale in the form of a march with two trios. In the sublime slow movement Schumann challenges Beethoven in the profundity of hymn-like expression. poco adagio) is succeeded by another close encounter with the fifth, this one so energetic that it threatens to blow the quartet apart.

The Adagio molto in D major is, on the other hand, a true slow movement. It takes the form of a dialogue between two very different kinds of material - a main theme abundant in melodic and textural interest alternating with a worrying episode introduced by an ostinato of lean minor thirds on second violin. After three such exchanges, the conflict is resolved when the minor thirds are transformed to octaves on viola near the end.

Though usually described as a rondo, the Finale is actually a brisk march including, like most marches, a contrasting trio section. Schumann’s trio (or “Quasi Trio as he calls it) has something of the character of the gavotte and twice comes as a timely relief to the prevailing march rhythms. It also presents on each occasion a last, if now quite unsentimental, allusion to the falling and rising fifths which have been such an essential feature of the identity of the work.

Of Schumann’s three String Quartets, the third in A major is surely the most original. It is as though, having paid all due respect to the examples set by Mendelssohn and Beethoven in the first two, he could now make a different approach to the form. Although it derives from Beethoven, the first melodic phrase, a falling fifth, makes the whole of the first movement an intimately personal confession. In the Andante espressivo introduction the fifth utters its gentle sigh no fewer than five times in seven bars. As the tempo changes, it is immediately incorporated into the main theme of the Allegro molto moderato where, allied to a charming little tune on first violin, it retains its intimacy. It is present too in the melodic line of the handsomely amorous second subject introduced by cello to an off-beat accompaniment on violins and viola.

The Assai agitato in F sharp minor is neither the slow movement nor the scherzo one might expect at this point. Nor, in spite of early appearances, is it a straightforward set of variations on the slightly breathless opening theme. Certainly, if the vigorously contrapuntal episode introduced after the first variation has anything at all in common with the opening theme, it has more to do with the falling fifth, which is here reversed into a dynamic upwards gesture. Clearly an authentic variation, a gently lilting siciliano is succeeded by another close encounter with the fifth, this one so energetic that it threatens to blow the quartet apart.

The Adagio molto in D major is, on the other hand, a true slow movement. It takes the form of a dialogue between two very different kinds of material – a main theme abundant in melodic and textural interest alternating with a worrying episode introduced by an ostinato of lean minor thirds on second violin. After three such exchanges, the conflict is resolved when the minor thirds are transformed to octaves on viola near the end.

Though usually described as a rondo, the Finale is actually a brisk march including, like most marches, a contrasting trio section. Schumann’s “Quasi Trio,” as he calls it has something of the character of the gavotte and twice comes as a timely relief to the prevailing march rhythms. It also presents on each occasion a last, if now quite unsentimental, allusion to the falling and rising fifths.

Of Schumann’s three String Quartets, all of them written in June and July 1842, the Third in A major is surely the most original. It is as though, having liberated his conscience of the example set by Mendelssohn and Beethoven - by emulating what he most admired about their quartets    in the first two of his own - he could now apply a fresh imagination to the form. True, the opening chord of the Quartet in A major and its first melodic phrase, a falling fifth, are very like those of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in E flat Op.31 No.3. Like Beethoven again, Schumann goes on to make that phrase a prominent and recurrent feature of the first movement. But he does it with quite different, entirely personal expressive intentions.

You don’t have to hear the falling fifth as an appeal to Clara - though its two notes fit the two syllables of her name well enough - to appreciate how much it means to him: in the Andante espressivo introduction it utters its gentle sigh no fewer than five times in seven bars. As the tempo changes, it is immediately incorporated into the main theme of the Allegro molto moderato where, allied to a charming little tune on first violin, it retains its intimacy. It is present too in the melodic line of the handsomely amorous second subject introduced by cello to an off-beat accompaniment on violins and viola. So it is surprising, shocking even, when the sighing fifth and the charming little tune that goes with it are both treated with some violence in the short but dramatic development section. Peace is restored in the recapitulation, however, just as the initial emotional implications of the falling fifth are confirmed in the coda and in one last sigh on the cello.

Conventionally, a slow movement or a scherzo would follow at this point. The Assai agitato in F sharp minor is neither. Nor, in spite of early appearances, is it a straightforward set of variations on the slightly breathless opening theme. Certainly, if the vigorously contrapuntal episode introduced after the first variation has anything at all in common with the opening theme, it has more to do with the falling fifth, which is here reversed into a dynamic upwards gesture with every successive entry. Clearly an authentic variation, a gently lilting sicilienne (marked Un poco adagio) is succeeded by another close encounter with the fifth, this one so energetic that it threatens to blow the quartet apart.

The Adagio molto in D major is, on the other hand, a true slow movement. It takes the form of a dialogue between two very different kinds of material - a main theme abundant in melodic and textural interest alternating with a worrying episode introduced by an ostinato of lean minor thirds on second violin. After three such exchanges, the conflict is resolved when the minor thirds are transformed to octaves on viola near the end.

Though usually described as a rondo, the Finale is actually a brisk march including, like most marches, a contrasting trio section. Schumann’s trio (or “Quasi Trio as he calls it) has something of the character of the gavotte and twice comes as a timely relief to the prevailing march rhythms. It also presents on each occasion a last, if now quite unsentimental, allusion to the falling and rising fifths which have been such an essential feature of the identity of the work.

Gerald Larner©2003

Of Schumann’s three String Quartets, all of them written in June and July 1842, No.3 in A major is surely the most original. It is as though, having liberated his conscience of the examples set by Mendelssohn and Beethoven – by emulating what he most admired about their quartets    in the first two of his own – he could now apply a fresh imagination to the form. True, the opening chord of the Quartet in A major and its first melodic phrase, a falling fifth, are very like those of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in E flat Op.31 No.3. Like Beethoven again, Schumann goes on to make that phrase a prominent and recurrent feature of the first movement. But he does it with quite different, entirely personal expressive intentions.

You don’t have to hear the falling fifth as an appeal to Clara – though its two notes fit the two syllables of her name well enough – to appreciate how much it means to him: in the Andante espressivo introduction it utters its gentle sigh no fewer than five times in seven bars. As the tempo changes, it is immediately incorporated into the main theme of the Allegro molto moderato where, allied to a charming little tune on first violin, it retains its intimacy. It is present too in the melodic line of the handsomely amorous second subject introduced by cello to an off-beat accompaniment on violins and viola. So it is surprising, shocking even, when the sighing fifth and the charming little tune that goes with it are both treated with some violence in the short but dramatic development section. Peace is restored in the recapitulation, however, just as the initial emotional implications of the falling fifth are confirmed in the coda and in one last sigh on the cello.

Conventionally, a slow movement or a scherzo would follow at this point. The Assai agitato in F sharp minor is neither. Nor, in spite of early appearances, is it a straightforward set of variations on the slightly breathless opening theme. Certainly, if the vigorously contrapuntal episode introduced after the first variation has anything at all in common with the opening theme, it has more to do with the falling fifth, which is here reversed into a dynamic upwards gesture with every successive entry. Clearly an authentic variation, a gently lilting siciliano (marked Un poco adagio) is succeeded by another close encounter with the fifth, this one so energetic that it threatens to blow the quartet apart.

The Adagio molto in D major, on the other hand, is a true slow movement. It takes the form of a dialogue between two very different kinds of material – a main theme abundant in melodic and textural interest alternating with a worrying episode introduced by an ostinato of lean minor thirds on second violin. After three such exchanges, the conflict is resolved when the minor thirds are transformed to octaves on viola near the end.

Though usually described as a rondo, the Finale is actually a brisk march including, like most marches, a contrasting trio section. Schumann’s equivalent of the trio section conventional in the march (he calls it a “Quasi Trio”) has something of the character of the gavotte and twice comes as a timely relief to the prevailing march rhythms. It also presents on each occasion a last, if now quite unsentimental, allusion to the falling and rising fifths which have been such an essential feature of the identity of the work.

Gerald Larner © 2018