Schubert's Moment Musical in F Minor

by the Eminent Virtuoso Teacher and Composer
SIGISMUND STOJOWSKI

THE AESTHETIC AND HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE OF SCHUBERT'S PIECES.

To the lover of nature one single tree rising towards the azure sky while the sunbeams play across its branches, or even a tiny solitary flower, bathed in heavenly dew, may give the keenest, purest pleasure, a sense of complete and absolute enjoyment. So can a fully satisfying aesthetic emotion be derived from a small canvas, in which the color-scheme is truly expressive, from a short lyric, charged with human thought, a little piece of music, perfect in its beauty within its humble scope.

Of Such quality are many of Schubert's truest inspirations, and a parallel drawn from nature indeed seems apposite in his case for many a reason. His creative genius was like nature herself in her freedom, spontaneity and unconsciousness, in the lusciousness of her indiscriminating profusion. This music smells of the meadows where fragrant blossoms grow among weeds — (critics have dwelt upon his incapacity of sifting his thoughts almost to the point of obscuring his true and great significance in the evolution of the art of music)--and he seemed like a part of nature himself, in his child-like simplicity, his bird-like joy in song incessant! Unknown to him were the Promethean pangs of a Beethoven, nor did, within him, genius resemble the relentlessly gnawing vulture.

The only struggle of his short and eventless life was that with poverty: his freedom from struggle, the sense and joy of living he found in his creative work. In this he forged new and original means of expression so well as to fix his expressions into imperishable gems, quite instinctively and without any effort, for he was totally un-trammelled—and un-helped—by what we Pygmies somewhat pretentiously think is the indispensable professional education. It seems as if Beethoven and Schubert had divided between themselves the task of founding modern music: taking the word "modern" in its spiritual and richer sense, suggestive of that world of individual emotions out f which our art has been made ever since, and regardless of conventional classifications according to mere patterns and of the much debated, never explained and ever artificial differentiation between "classics" and "romantics." To Beethoven succumbed the part of forcing his titanic spirit into what Dr. Parry so excellently calls "the perfect balance between expression and design"—which is, by the way, the very definition of all classicism.

Schubert, on the contrary, always remained the Aeolian harp, ever sensitive, instantly responsive to any vibration, and so became the forerunner of all that coming romanticism was to contain of subjective intimacy, of immediate and direct appeal to the heart. Overshadowed by the immense figure of Beethoven in his lifetime, while living, obscure, in that same city of Vienna, Schubert is up to now often underrated in his historical importance. The wonderful but obtrusive thing railed culture, mother of progress—and prejudice—has accustomed us to most highly — and righteously — valuing the wide intellectual grasp, the self-mastery and power shown by the human-spirit in the conscious and controlled effort of vast constructions, but also, to at times confuse bigness with dimension. And we almost forget that, like the little flower, the solitary tree in Nature, so does artistic inspiration, cast into a small form, illustrate and reveal the mysterious and divine principle of all creation.

That Schubert's natural gifts and intuitive ways should have made him impatient of the constraint of larger forms, that he was born to become the true founder of artistic song, and felt impelled to transplant that flower of emotion into the field of instrumental music, lies at hand, although we must remember that all we hold of him is the legacy of mere youth. Others have explained—and excellently— wherein lies the greatness of these songs, direct embodiment of the poetical idea underlying—as tuneful as they were full of tunes. His piano-music, too, is saturated with rich melody: his best pieces derive from song both form and contents, characterized as these are by the convergence of all the elements employed, such as melody, harmony, color, instrumental setting and structure, towards that one end so precious in song which painters have taught us to call atmosphere.

This tone-poet fond of playing on the heart-strings—a French writer calls him "the most poetic musician that ever was," While an American critic declares him the "most lovable of all"—shares with a newly enthroned instrument, the piano, fit companion of home and ideal confident of the musician's heart, the wonderful privilege of the intimate quality. Owing to this kinship it only seems amazing that in Schubert's enormous production the piano-lyrics should be but few: two sets of so-called impromptus and the musical moments, outside, of course, of his endeavors in the sonata form and innumerable dances and marches. Yet few as they are, their aesthetic and historical value is of great import. While they do not increase the technical resources of piano style—Schubert's music is generally free from virtuosity—they are, in the highest sense of the word, idiomatic: they convincingly assert the superiority of the new instrument in its fine capacity for song and color. As compositions they stand out as novelties and models: independent little tone-poems, alone for their own sake, not cast into the mould of the current and ruling sonata form—"not chips from a great workshop," as Mr. Hadow has it. And the whole romantic future will indeed be tributary along that line of creative thought, from Mendelssohn and Schumann, Schubert's great admirers and discoverers, down to Johannes Brahms and the present day.

THE "MUSICAL MOMENTS."

No biographical data can give us information on these "closely wrought miniatures" concerning their origin and meaning. We Just know they appeared in print as Op. 04, with the first set of lmpromptus (Op. 142), in 1828, the very year of Schubert's death. The most recent of Schubert's German biographers, Walter Dehns, asserts the manuscript bears the date December, 1827. Opus numbers are quite misleading, where there are so many of them—and so is "inner evidence" in the case of one who turned out so many a masterpiece before ever reaching maturity. Yet historians divide Schubert's activity Into two periods, marked by the year 1818; that of youthful formation in which the influences of Mozart and Beethoven, the two older masters of the Viennese school, are more or less pronounced—and that of fully achieved and developed originality and mastery. Sir G. Grove has assigned the piano lyrics to the latter period.

The Musical Moments differ widely from each other in style, form and character. Dr. Bie finds fun detecting now and then a feature of the coming Schumann, while the face of old Bach, the eternal ancestor of all music, isn't altogether absent (In the prelude-like No. 5). The writer feels in No. 2 a suggestion of a Chopin Nocturne and No. 3, with which we are now specially concerned, seems to point to Brahms and his lntermezzi.

MOMENT MUSICAL NO. 3: ITS RELATION TO DANCE-MUSIC.

It is a delightful little dance, absolutely different from all dance-music written before, not only by Mozart and Beethoven, but also by Schubert himself. At gatherings of friends, called the "Schubertiads" because of the master's presence, he would gladly sit at the piano and improvise some music for the dancing. To tills circumstance we owe his Innumerable waltzes, Laendlers, etc., predecessors of the well-known Viennese type. Although conceived on the spur of the moment, and as a mere support to the dancers, these dances of Schubert form a sheaf of fresh and fragrant melodies, such as only his, inexhaustible genius could conceive. Many composers had previously raised dance-music to artistic dignity, emancipated it from the sister-art, which, from the august function of being the speech of gesture, sank into the conventionality or a frivolous pastime. But If the aristocratic minuet had been adopted as a part of the classical sonata, It was subordinate there, naturally, to a vaster whole. The older masters, too, had Incorporated the various dances, slow "courantes" and "sarabandes," vivacious "gigues" and ''gigues" into their "suites" or "orders" of pieces, where they became, more or less, the prey of supremely ruling counterpoint (Bach's gigues, for instance, being mostly fugues). But long ere. Schumann and Chopin came to cast into the mould of dance-forms the most capricious and varied moods, Schubert created in this Moment a new, quite Independent, unique specimen of dance, charged to the brim with a peculiarly woeful expression, yet so light, refined and fragrant that It seems conceived for some spirits fraternal to Ariel.

PERFORMANCE AND DETAILED ANALYSIS.

The delineation of character which precedes should convey to the performer that perfection will here be primarily dependent upon the quality of touch employed. It should be both light and singing, for we are struck at first glance by the alliance of tuneful melody with graceful rhythmical design. The persistent "staccato" of the accompaniment should be handled with extreme delicacy. Even in forte passages we should never forget the intimate quality of the inspiration. And as color—expressive but subdued color—seems the main thing In this little piece, the pedal must be used only with the utmost reserve, never blurring the clear-cut outline, but adding to the expression as a dynamic agent. The structure, wonderfully harmonious in Its simplicity, again slows the dual combination of song and dance. The first phrase (A) starts In with a very definite rhythmical design of the melody in the two first measures—-an ever recurrent nucleus—which is supremely illustrative of Schubert's manner, as contrasted with, for Instance, Mozart's melody-building, characterized by fluency rather than precision and definiteness of outline. Let us, in playing, emphasize the rhythmical precision by slightly accenting and gracefully taking off the short note after the grace-note (1) and lending some stress and a singing quality to the two sustained quarter-notes of the second bar. Three times is tills rhythmical feature repeated—with a slight and welcome change the third time:

instead of

...the repetition on ascending Intervals implying a crescendo—not to be overdone, however! The last two measures of the phrase- bring a decrease and conclusion on the tonic. The entire setting of this and of the following melodic phrases Is peculiarly Schubertian, too, in a certain "popular" quality, quite familiar in folk-music, and which one is not surprised to meet with even In a most highly refined art-work of this naive child of the Vienna people. There is no polyphony in the contrapuntal sense, but the melody is constantly coupled with harmonic and consonant—filling notes, such as thirds, sixths, etc. These create some technical difficulty to the performer. At No. 3 the writer would suggest the following facility:

If, however, the original way be preferred, the F in the first-chord of the bass should be omitted, thus:

The phrases B. and C. constructed in response to each other, both ending in the relative major key, form a sort of "trio" or middle section. The major mode brings a ray of sunshine; yet the tender melody sounds almost sadder than anything, just like in some Dutch pictures dealing with simple lives and their modest homes, the pathos lies in the light projected. Peculiar longing vibrates in the sustained dissonance at 5; it should be somewhat emphasized by the pressure of the finger, while the following resolution must recede in tone-quality. The pedal-mark is an instance of use of the pedal for a merely expressive purpose. A certain freedom may be permitted in the performance of this entire section. While slightly holding back the tempo at the start of B„ we should endeavor, in changing the finger on the repeated keys, to get a sort of legato on the spot, conducive to a longingly singing quality of tone. It may be noticed that the repeated quarter-notes by which the new phrase sets in—also other details such as the short eighth preceded by a grace note—directly derive from the context of the initial phrase. Schubert instinctively found a device of unification of material, which the cleverness of a Brahms is going to exploit to the point of leaving no stone of a foundation unturned in its logical development. The endings of both phrases of this section are noteworthy, too. In that of B, the melody's accompanying alter ego, the lower voice, is called upon to step into the foreground—at 6— while the upper voice now fills out the harmony and stays In suspense on the dominant prolonged Into the fifth of the tonic. Owing to this, the cadence of the responding phrase C, in the same key retains its freshness and acquires more finality; the tonic now being on top. The sixths of this ending (3) disclose an Instructive point from the instrumental point of view. A technical deficiency—the difficulty of absolute legato In the playing of double-notes—turns into an advantage to interpretation: strict legato, applied only to the upper part, asserts its melodic supremacy. That this lies In the composer's intention, Is revealed by the need he felt in tying over the first of the two grace-notes at the very beginning (1)—so that the melodic note G stands out, being struck alone. It may be mentioned here, although this seems obvious, that all grace-notes arc played before the beat. The initial phrase can, now be repeated (D) with an even more feathery touch than at the outset. The extension B. leads over to the Coda F. and is particularly illustrative of some of Schubert's harmonic devices, such as the alternation of minor and major mode (10, 12)—a play which Brahms, again, is going to exploit. The bold B flat against the B natural of-the base (11), is a fine instance of what Lussy calls the "pathetic accent:" when. repeated It can be singled out not by accenting, but by subduing and, possibly, by softly rolling the two notes:

The lingering over the 0/4 chord of the major key (12) followed by the dominant ninth (13), Is a gradual working up towards light, in which the inner exuberance is held back. as it is in the whole Coda, by outward restraint. Simply peaceful should be the close of this dainty little thing that expires In a breath. The harmonic "finesses" (14. 15) must be slightly marked, for all harmonic devices in Schubert's music have an expressive meaning. The discrimination and aesthetic instinct shown in the use of harmony, and especially dissonance by this genuine Innovator, might serve as a warning to some modern writers who fail to realize that excess is a lack and a danger and it seems as if one could hear the voice of this high lord In the realm of our art, crying out from beyond the grave, to all of us: caveat consules.