The Beethoven String Quartet Project: Op. 95

As the necessary home confinement continues today and for the foreseeable future, I have turned to a project I intended to engage in at some point this year: listening to and reflecting upon the magnificent string quartets of Ludwig van Beethoven, who was born 250 years ago. For each of the next 17 days, I hope to post a short paragraph or two on these stimulating pieces.

STRING QUARTET No. 11 in F MINOR, op. 95 “Serioso”
I listened to the Ariel String Quartet, recorded live at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music’s Corbett Auditorium on Thursday, January 23, 2014. It’s available on YouTube.

Allegro con brio

Allegretto ma non troppo

Allegro assai vivace ma serioso

Larghetto espressivo - Allegretto agitato - Allegro

We don’t know exactly when Beethoven wrote this compact, intense rocket of a string quartet. He was working on it toward the end of 1810 and into the beginning of 1811, though it didn’t receive its premiere until 1814. William Kinderman makes an important point about the widening gap in quality between the works Beethoven was serious about and the ones he was writing as incidental music around this time: around 1811, Beethoven begins to make “a clear distinction between serious compositions and works written for public or ceremonial use but not fashioned to the highest artistic standards….The fact that Beethoven titled a bold, advanced work like the F minor Quartet ‘Quartetto serioso’ is interesting in this regard, since the title may be understood to allude not merely to the work’s dark emotional tone but also to its challenging stylistic demands. Opus 95 is one of the pieces of these years that is most prophetic of the style of Beethoven’s later music.” And Peter Laki adds a perfect description of the F minor quartet: “In extremely concise form, the quartet sums up most of the qualities of the “heroic” period: robust force, melodic poignancy, formal concentration, abrupt interruptions, bold key changes and an irresistible rhythmic drive.”

I was quite mesmerized with the performance by the Ariel String Quartet, a group that formed in Israel when its players were teenagers and has grown into one of the most important string quartets around. Their body language and musical personalities were well-suited to the piece and they managed to navigate the dramatic and musical challenges with aplomb.

The unison opening of the first movement immediately grabs one’s attention, which is further heightened by the repetition a mere 6 bars later of the same motive in the cello played a semi-tone higher. Such an immediate and unprepared harmonic shift is startling, but not unusual now for a composer who has left behind the conventions of 18th century style. The movement has a lovely second theme in Db major, but the tenderness is short-lived. Extreme dynamic contrast and exceptional and fragmented writing are evident throughout the movement. There’s no repeat of the exposition; we’re thrown into the development that makes a meal of the opening “turn” motive and leads to a quite terrifying buildup near the end, fading away to an abrupt end. This movement takes you by the scruff of the neck, shakes you and throws you to the ground!

The second movement is much gentler, but with underlying foreboding harmonic twists. The extended opening melody (which follows an arresting opening “mezza voce” descending figure in the solo cello) follows a discernible contour, but is accompanied by snaky unusual harmonies and finally leads to a cadence that is more than deceptive. The last chord of this opening section is made up of the notes A-C-D-Eb-F# and the one two bars later Bb-C#-D-E-G: crunchy to say the least. There’s a beautiful fugal section begun by the viola and featuring richly chromatic harmonies and use of subito dynamics. The descending cello line from the beginning returns effectively, surrounded by icy, long chords from the other instruments. The two big musical themes of the movement combine near the end and the crunchy chords continue, punctuated by effective use of silence. The last chord is unresolved, leading directly to an attacca of the next movement.

Movement three begins with a four-note motive followed by silence, which is repeated a minor third higher followed again by silence. Throughout the movement, there are a series of interruptions and halts calling for ferocious, intense playing from the musicians. The contrasting middle section is tender, in Gb major with the same theme repeated in D major. The final return of the opening material is stated without silence in between and races through to the end of the movement.

The last movement is a remarkably original piece of music. It opens with a slow introduction, with effective use of unisons and octaves. It’s hesitant and one is not sure where things are leading until it becomes the Allegretto main body of the movement, which features a rather haunting tine which makes use of the sixth degree of the scale and its “leaning’, dissonant capabilities. The theme is not so much developed as it is repeated in different musical shades of light and dark: it’s as if the light is refracted and we hear the theme - or bits of it - from different vantage points. The final Allegro in F major is somewhat of a surprise. The first violin part climbs into the stratosphere and the piece ends with rising intensity, unable to contain itself any further.

The table has been set, clearly, for the final period of Beethoven’s string quartet writing and those pieces that defy categorization or description. Opus 95 paves the way.