Clarinet Quintet in B flat major Op.34 (1811–1815)

arranged for recorder by Michala Petri

Allegro

Fantasia: adagio ma non troppo

Menuetto: capriccio presto

Rondo: allegro giocoso

In 1815, when Weber wrote his Clarinet Quintet, the recorder was an even more distant memory than it was in Mozart’s day. At the same time music had developed still further beyond the expressive range of an instrument that had flourished in quite different aesthetic circumstances. So it is a brave recorder player who takes on the challenge of converting to her own use a work written not only for the woodwind instrument closest to the heart of the romantic movement but also for a virtuoso exponent, Heinrich Bärmann, persuasive enough to have inspired in Weber a Clarinet Concertino and two full-length Concertos as well as the Quintet in B flat.

The first movement of the Quintet in B flat features a charming, perhaps even slightly raffish woodwind instrument flatteringly offset by a modest, perhaps even slightly old-fashioned string ensemble. In spite of its unfailing urge to outshine the strings in displays of superior agility, the wind instrument does find an ally in the cello, which joins it in introducing the second subject and which even shares some of its virtuoso figuration. For the most part, however, the strings retain a low profile in relation to the irrepressible soloist.

Although the composer describes the slow movement as a Fantasia, it is virtually an operatic aria. The strings set the sombre scene and the wind instrument sings of its unhappiness in an expressively wide-ranging melodic line which is further developed in a passionate coloratura episode culminating in a spectacular cadenza of chromatic scales in contrasting colours. The third movement also carries a misleading title. Scarcely a Menuetto, it is a deftly written scherzo with neatly integrated exchanges of pithy comments between soloist and strings and a contrastingly melodious, homogenously textured middle section.

The final Rondo, on the other hand, is an authentic example of its kind. Based on a dashingly agile main theme, it incorporates a brilliantly entertaining variety of material, including an elegantly expressive episode in D flat major and a coda in which the solo instrument almost falls over itself in its eagerness to indulge in one last display of technical bravura.

Just as Mozart had his Anton Stadler, and just as Brahms was to have his Richard Mühlfeld, Weber also had a favourite clarinettist in Heinrich Bärmann. It was for Bärmann - whom the composer first heard in Darmstadt in 1811 - that Weber wrote his Clarinet Concertino and then, in quick succession, the two full-length Concertos in F minor and E flat major. The Clarinet Quintet in B flat was started in a continuing wave of enthusiasm for the instrument and its debonair exponent in 1811 but it was set aside and not completed until four years later, when Weber was staying with Bärmann in Munich in the summer of 1815.

The first movement of the Clarinet Quintet features a charming, perhaps even slightly raffish clarinet flatteringly offset by a modest, perhaps even slightly old-fashioned string ensemble. The quiet opening bars sound like the beginning of a string quartet by Haydn. After its poetic first entry, however, the clarinet takes no interest at all in the material suggested by the strings and presents a cheerfully march-like tune of its own as the main theme. In spite of its unfailing urge to outshine the strings in displays of superior agility, the clarinet does find an ally in the cello, which joins it in introducing the second subject and which even, towards the end of the movement, shares some of its virtuoso figuration. For the most part, however, the strings retain a low profile in relation to the irrepressible clarinet and are required to recall their opening material only at the beginning of the recapitulation.

Although the composer describes the slow movement as a Fantasia, it is virtually an operatic aria. The strings set the sombre scene in G minor and the clarinet sings of its unhappiness in an expressively wide-ranging melodic line which, in the middle section of the movement, is further developed in a passionate coloratura episode culminating in a spectacular cadenza of chromatic scales in contrasting colours. The third movement also carries a misleading title. Scarcely a Menuetto, it is a deftly written scherzo with neatly integrated exchanges of pithy comments between clarinet and strings in the outer sections and a contrastingly melodious, homogenously textured middle section.

The final Rondo, on the other hand, is an authentic example of its kind. Based on a dashingly agile clarinet tune with galloping rhythms on the strings, it incorporates a brilliantly entertaining variety of material, including a fugato for the string quartet, an elegantly expressive episode in D flat major and a coda in which the clarinet almost falls over itself in its eagerness to indulge in one last display of technical bravura.

Just as Mozart had his Anton Stadler, and just as Brahms was to have his Richard Mühlfeld, Weber also had a favourite clarinettist in Heinrich Bärmann. Without Bärmann – who first attracted the young composer’s attention when he played the clarinet obbligato in Weber’s Se il mio ben    in Darmstadt in 1811 – Weber would not have been inspired to write his Clarinet Concertino in E flat, and it was Bärmann’s performance of that work at a Court concert in Munich that moved the King of Bavaria to commission two full-length Concertos from the same composer for the same clarinettist. The Clarinet Quintet in B flat was started in a continuing wave of enthusiasm for the instrument in 1811 but it was set aside and not completed until four years later, when Weber was staying with Bärmann in Munich in the summer of 1815.

It is clear from all these works that Weber admired Bärmannn not only for his rare accomplishment as a musician but also for his personality. The first movement of the Clarinet Quintet features a debonair, perhaps even slightly raffish clarinet flatteringly offset by a modest, perhaps even slightly old-fashioned string ensemble. The quiet opening bars sound like the beginning of a string quartet by Haydn. After its poetic first entry, however, the clarinet takes no interest at all in the material suggested by the strings and presents a cheerfully march-like tune of its own as the main theme. In spite of its unfailing urge to outshine the strings in displays of superior agility, the clarinet does find an ally in the cello, which joins it in introducing the second subject and which even, towards the end of the movement, shares some of its virtuoso figuration. For the most part, however, the strings retain a low profile in relation to the irrepressible clarinet and are required to recall their opening material only at the beginning of the recapitulation.

Although the composer describes the slow movement as a Fantasia, it is virtually an operatic aria. The strings set the sombre scene in G minor and the clarinet sings of its unhappiness in an expressively wide-ranging melodic line which, in the middle section of the movement, is further developed in a passionate coloratura episode culminating in a spectacular cadenza of chromatic scales in contrasting colours.

The third movement also carries a misleading title. Scarcely a Menuetto, it is a deftly written scherzo with neatly integrated exchanges of pithy comments between clarinet and strings in the outer sections and a contrastingly melodious, homogenously textured middle section.

The final Rondo, on the other hand, is an authentic example of its kind. Based on a dashingly agile clarinet tune with galloping rhythms on the strings, it incorporates a brilliantly entertaining variety of material, including a fugato for the string quartet, an elegantly expressive episode in D flat major and a coda in which the clarinet almost falls over itself in its eagerness to indulge in one last display of technical bravura.