Program Notes
By Kurt Baldwin
Quartet in E-flat Major, Op.127
The Quartet in E-flat Major was completed in 1824 after being commissioned by the Russian Prince Galitzin of St. Petersburg. It had been twelve years since Beethoven’s last string quartet, the Op.95 “Serioso” of 1810 and Beethoven, now completely deaf, was poised to focus the last few years of his life on his five late string quartets. The remarkable intensity with which he composed for the genre of string quartet in the last three years of his life demonstrates an expressive thrust unparalleled in the history of western music, and is even more amazing when we take into account the quality of these last five quartets. With his complete deafness came a world of social introversion, and so with his late quartets came a world of deep personal exploration.
The Quartet Op.127 is a work built on beautiful thematic lines, a complex and rich harmonic foundation, Beethoven’s trademark depth of emotion, and is urged along by remarkable contrasts between the four movements. The lyrical first movement, marked Maestoso-Allegro, begins with regal opening chords in 2/4, and segues seamlessly to the 3/4 body of the movement and first theme in the violin. The structure of the movement, a sonata form, serves as a loose road map, but we don’t feel as if we are hearing a traditional exposition, development and recapitulation. The occasional interjection of the opening 2/4 music is immediately identifiable, and helps to make the flowing body of the movement even more satisfying. The development, a section of free variation, provides a driving energy that reinforces the linear lyricism of the movement. The main theme returns frequently, redecorated each time by a changing supporting texture.
The second movement is a theme and variations whose mood dramatically contrasts the flowing outdoorsy feel of the first movement. Beethoven cultivates a feeling of organic flow from one variation to another, unifying the deep inward emotion of the movement. The hymn-like theme grows out of a rhythmically deceptive stacking of voices, eventually blossoming in the first violin. The accompanying voices are always contemplative, gently nudging the long theme along. The richness of Beethoven’s harmonies is especially felt here and highlighted by the unity of motion. The first variation extends the emotions of the theme but offers a texture that moves more easily and that is more outwardly expressive. The second variation is immediately jaunty, and almost comical in character. Even when it tries to sound serious, it seems that its emotions are only skin deep. The third variation, marked adagio molto espressivo, returns to the sentiment of the opening theme and provides the entire work with a spiritual climax. The fourth variation begins with the soaring theme in the first violin accompanied by rising arpeggios in the cello and gentle eighth notes in the second violin and viola. Beethoven adorns both the primary thematic material and accompanying voices with gentle trills, giving the music a sense of elegance and lift. The final variation is reached after a short bridge section in c# minor, and immediately provides a sense of relief. The cordial feeling of this variation, with its wandering lines of sixteenth notes and unity of spirit, is interrupted by a shocking silence. Palpitating eighth notes in the inner voices of the quartet usher in a brief closing section, and a sequence of breathtaking harmonic shifts bring the movement to a close.
The third movement scherzo begins with four plucked chords that are followed by a brief fugue. (It seems to be no coincidence that having just completed the ninth symphony, Beethoven carried over the idea of starting the scherzo with a fugue.) The subject begins in the cello and is answered in inversion by the viola. The second violin then introduces a new motive, and is answered by the first violin, which extends the thematic material. The brief contrasting elements within the scherzo propel the movement, as the fugal material resurfaces several times and is framed by completely different contrapuntal textures. After a section of completely unified rhythmic motion, Beethoven suddenly interjects a five bar fragment in 2/4, completely interrupting the 3/4 scherzo motion. This happens several times throughout the movement, and is never expected. The dramatic contrasts of the movement are furthered by the introduction of a scampering trio, which sends the quartet spinning away from the order and precision of the dotted scherzo rhythm.
The Finale begins with a four bar preparatory phrase, and then features a charming folk-like melody. The lyricism of the first movement returns as four melodies are introduced and coexist with one another throughout the movement. The 6/8 coda is announced by trills in the violins that become chromatic running triplet lines that serve as accompaniment for another folk melody. A false cadence, eight bars from the end, makes the actual close of the quartet that much more satisfying.
Quartet in B-flat Major, Op.130
In 1822, Beethoven wrote, “I feel I am on the threshold of great things.”
It had been twelve years since his last quartet, the Op.95 “Serioso” when Beethoven received a commission for “one, two or three string quartets” from Prince Nikolas Galitzen, an amateur cellist and longtime advocate of Beethoven’s work. With the Ninth Symphony and Missa Solemnis finally completed in 1823, an exhausted Beethoven took two months off before beginning work on his final string quartets. He completed the Op.127 quartet in February of 1825, the Op. 132 quartet in July, and Op. 130 in November of the same year. Prince Galitzen received his three new quartets in mid-1826, and proceeded to never pay Beethoven for the works. The Schuppanzigh Quartet, a group that championed many of Beethoven’s most challenging new works, premiered the Op.130 quartet on the evening of March 21, 1826. Beethoven, by this point a recluse and extremely uncomfortable at high profile social events, spent the evening of the premiere in a café waiting for news of the response. The six-movement quartet was received well, although the audience was a puzzled by the two slow movements and especially shocked by the giant fugal last movement.
The Op.130 quartet is marked by profundity, elegance, humor and enchantment, and sheds light on Beethoven’s state of mind during perhaps the last happy months of his otherwise difficult life.
The enigmatic first movement of Op.130 is built primarily out of Beethoven’s juxtaposition of the solemn (yet optimistic) music heard in the opening Adagio ma non troppo with the exuberant music in the Allegro that follows. Throughout the movement, Beethoven shifts unpredictably between these two moods, both of which contain the essential elements of the first theme. The heroic sounding Allegro sections of the movement are spurred on by running sixteenth note lines. These fast lines are shared equally by all four instruments in the quartet and are the accompaniment to the primary melodic idea, a simple declamatory motive. The scampering fast notes never completely leave the texture, as Beethoven cleverly stitches them into even the most melodically rapturous moments. The music takes unforeseen twists and turns as it shifts between the fast and slow sections and is punctuated by Beethoven’s wildly imaginative use of unusually placed accents.
The scherzo is the shortest movement in all of Beethoven’s seventeen quartets. Its lightning quick pace and unrelenting energy gives us some insight into Beethoven’s wry wittiness. The center section of the movement features a virtuosic outburst by the first violin that injects the music with a rustic flair. Then the first violin, sounding a bit dazed, plays a short cadenza that wends its way back to the music of the opening before the movement ends with a gruff snarl.
The third movement, marked Andante con moto – ma non troppo, occupies the spot traditionally held by the slow movement in the classical era string quartet. But with the true slow movement of the piece yet to come, Beethoven presents this charming and graceful sonata-like movement instead. The sighing motive heard in the opening two bars of the movement is actually an introduction (Beethoven even marked “Preludio” over these two bars in one of his sketches), and denotes a dark brooding quality that Beethoven spurns. Instead, a lilting theme in Db major emerges from the viola line, buoyed by a genial accompaniment. The lyricism of the movement is spirited but manages to never lose its poise and elegance. Beethoven is extremely imaginative with the textures, dividing both the melodic and accompanying figures between the instruments of the quartet. An extended coda section leads to the surprisingly sudden ending.
The lilting Allegro assai fourth movement is marked “danza tedesca”, which simply means German dance. The form of the movement is similar to a minuet and trio; we hear the waltzing tedesca music, a more vivacious trio section, a return of the tedesca, and then a short closing coda. One of the most notable features of the tedesca movement, aside from its role as the emotional respite between the third and fifth movements, is Beethoven’s unusual shaping within the melody. Unexpected swells and unfulfilled crescendos permeate the theme and give the dance an almost surreal quality. In the coda, we again see Beethoven’s lighter side as he bounces fragments of the theme between solo instruments.
The Cavatina (short aria) is the heart and soul of Op.130, and one of Beethoven’s most deeply personal and intimate slow movements. The music is profoundly simple and pure, revealing with the utmost clarity Beethoven’s sense of humanity, and perhaps, his depiction of the fragility of life. Karl Holz, who was the second violinist of the Schuppanzigh Quartet, reported that Beethoven “wrote the Cavatina amid sorrow and tears; never did his music breathe so heartfelt an inspiration, and even the memory of this movement brought tears to his eyes.” The centerpiece of the music is a recitative section marked “beklemmt” (“oppressed”), where the anguished solo in the first violin wanders above the unrelenting procession in the accompanying instruments. Just as the music seems like it may be literally torn apart by the meandering violin solo, the instruments come back together for one last murmured statement of the Cavatina theme.
The Finale we are playing on today’s concert is not the original last movement of Op. 130. The monumental work that is now published as Op.133, the Grosse Fuge, was Beethoven’s original last movement, but was deemed too challenging for audiences of the time. Nine months after the premiere of Op.130, Beethoven, at the urging of his publisher, wrote a second more approachable finale movement for Op.130. As it turned out, this alternate finale movement was the last thing Beethoven ever composed. Considering it is a substituted work, the marvelously effective finale we are performing today is all the more amazing. The Gypsy influenced opening theme is light and optimistic, and as it is tossed between the instruments, gets pushed along by a dancing accompaniment. The movement is almost a rondo, but develops more unpredictably, as Beethoven was far beyond adhering to the strict confines of any fixed form. The final build up and boisterous charge to the end of the quartet gives way to one last unexpected wrinkle before Beethoven concludes his epic Op.130 quartet.
Quartet in C# minor, Op.131
The last two and a half years of Beethoven’s life were dedicated exclusively to writing string quartets. The five late quartets, which immediately followed the Ninth Symphony, are looked upon by many as the finest works of Beethoven. As difficult as it may be to rank the late quartets against one another, it is even more challenging to refute the argument that Op.131 may be Beethoven’s finest work. It is, without a doubt, one of the most important works in the history of western music, traversing compelling depths of expression, revolutionizing use of form, and communicating a unity of spirit through a cohesive thematic and harmonic framework that had never been heard before. Written between November 1825 and July 1826, Op.131 is directly preceded by the quartets Op.127, Op.132, Op.130 (including the Grosse Fugue, Op.133) and followed only by Op.135.
The Quartet Op.131 utilizes a unique grand framework that helps bind the musical ideas together and propel the listener through the musical journey. Instead of separating distinct movements with respites for both the audience and performers, Beethoven specifically instructs the performers to play the seven movements without pause. The movements are clearly numbered in the score, 1 through 7, and in several instances, segue directly from one to another.
The remarkable first movement is a slow Fugue, with the pathos-laden subject being introduced by the first violin. The corresponding entrances by the other instruments come in descending order, finally reaching the cello in the twelfth bar. In this opening movement, Beethoven examines all six major key regions that will be explored in the rest of the quartet. The music sounds as if it is always in control of its own destiny, never exhibiting weakness or misgivings of direction. Moments of emotional clarity, specifically two canonic episodes presented in duets, provide an oasis in this otherwise emotionally complex landscape. Beethoven presents the fugal subject of the opening in an astounding rhythmically augmented version in the cello just before the movement comes to rest on the cadence of unison C#s. All four voices jump an octave and pause on C# before Beethoven lifts us to the Neapolitan, D Major (flattened 2nd scale degree), and into the second movement.
The delightful second movement, built on two primary themes, is a sort of sonata form, but with no development. The music is dance-like, almost scherzo-like, although the form never develops that far; the overall lack of contrast and unyielding rhythm help to keep the music free and light. A brief coda, built on the second theme, introduces the first fortissimo of the piece, but quickly subsides as the movement comes to a hushed close.
The third movement is only eleven bars long and acts as a spiritual gateway to the fourth movement. Of the third movement, Richard Wagner said “And now ‘tis as if the master, grown conscious of his art, were settling to work his magic…” Indeed, the brief third movement changes the mood, serious at first, then giving way to a rhapsodic Adagio recitative led by the first violin. A short crescendo and forte chord in the lower three voices signals the end of No.3.
No.4, the slow movement of Op.131, is a theme-and-variations movement. The theme in the first violin, accompanied by an agreeable descant and gentle plucking in the lower three voices, is simple and direct. The first variation, whose arrival comes undetected, holds onto the same meter and tempo as the theme, and ornaments the main material through gently meandering lines passed between all four instruments. Variation 2, marked piu mosso, evokes the sentiment of a rustic dance. A spry line in the middle voices sets the stage for an almost comedic dialogue between the outer voices. As all four instruments get more involved in the texture, the music becomes more raucous, but is gone as quickly as it came. Variation 3 is reminiscent of the brief canonic episodes in the opening Fugue. Each expressive statement is presented in pairs, first in an unaccompanied canon between the viola and cello, then in the violins, with the viola and cello providing a gentle foundation. Beethoven’s marking, Andante moderato e lusinghiero (seductively or coaxingly), challenges the players to create a sense of intimacy. This variation becomes even more charming when the thematic material is varied further, with trills, accents, and unexpected dissonances. An extraordinary transition takes us directly to the next Adagio, variation 4, in 6/8 time, whose flowing lines are punctuated by sonorous pizzicatti. Next comes the remarkable shift to the 2/4-meter of variation 5, marked Allegretto. By using syncopation and blurring the texture with double stops in all four voices, Beethoven creates fluid music that is almost purely a harmonic statement of the primary thematic material. Variation 6, an effusive hymn-like variation, is the spiritual heart of the entire quartet. The prayerful atmosphere, created initially by quarter notes in all four voices, is eventually interrupted by sixteenth note outbursts in the cello and first violin, thereby creating a sense of unpredictability and longing for lost serenity. Short recitatives from each voice act as the transition material to the music of the coda, where the theme is restated, this time in F Major. Another brilliant yet brief cadenza in the first violin ushers the movement to its simple close.
The Presto fifth movement, a scherzo, bursts onto the scene with a joyfully childlike temperament, heedless of the sophisticated material that has preceded it. The form of the movement, with two-and-a-half statements each of the scherzo and trio, is simple and repetitive, like a child telling a joke. The movement comes to a close with electrifying octave unison chords. The simplicity of this texture hints at the impending tumult of the quartet’s conclusion.
No.6, Adagio quasi un poco andante, begins with a lush statement from the viola, the solemnity of which suggests the arrival of a grand slow movement. The brief movement, however, is more a vehicle for Beethoven to usher us back to C# minor, and the serious mood of the opening Fugue. The abrupt segue to the Finale, No.7, is a truly shocking moment.
The sonata form Finale is one of Beethoven’s most profound concluding movements. His primary thematic material is drawn from the theme of the first movement Fugue, and wildness is balanced with sweet innocence. Richard Wagner’s comment about this movement seems fitting: “the movement is the dance of the whole world itself: wild joy, the wail of pain, love’s transport, utmost bliss, grief, frenzy, riot, suffering; the lightning flickers, thunders growl: and above it the stupendous fiddler who bans and bends it all, who leads it haughtily from whirlwind into whirlpool, to the brink of the abyss…”
Quartet in A minor, Op.132
Beethoven began writing sketches for the Op.132 quartet (along with work on the quartets of Op.127 and Op.130) in the fall of 1824 and continued into the spring of 1825. This was a particularly difficult time for Beethoven, as he struggled through the winter months with a serious and painful affliction that would end up burdening him throughout his last years. His doctor recommended a period of recuperation in the country with “fresh air and fresh milk” and absolutely no “wine, no coffee and no spices of any kind.” Armed with this recipe for wellness, Beethoven adjourned to the outlying Viennese suburb of Baden, where he spent the spring and summer months living and working, and completing the Op.132 string quartet. In the end, Beethoven’s painful ordeal served to inspire not only the creation of the ethereal slow movement of the Op.132 quartet, the spiritual centerpiece of the work, but the overarching theme of all five movements, which explore shifts between moods of light and dark, and build cohesion through tribulation.
The first movement begins with a slow four-note motive that is passed between the instruments of the quartet, setting a tone of emotional tension and uncertainty. The first violin’s brilliant outburst segues to the main body of the first movement, which is built primarily on a dotted rhythm theme presented first by the cello, and then expounded upon by the first violin. The gravity of the music is undeniable, but Beethoven diffuses the agitation with a delightful second theme in the second violin, accompanied by lighthearted triplets in the viola and cello part, and extended by the first violin. In the Allegro body of the movement, Beethoven intersperses unexpected statements of the slower music from the beginning, adding to the anxious character of the movement and ultimately creating a prolonged sense of emotional uncertainty.
The second movement, a scherzo and trio, opens with a graceful melody shared in unison by the quartet that is adorned by a second melodic idea presented by the first violin. As the movement progresses, the poised conversation between the two themes begins to be upset by Beethoven’s use of unexpected crescendos and diminuendos, and by irregular rhythmic groupings. The trio begins with the first violin playing a long bagpipe drone beneath its own melody, while the second violin plays an oscillating eighth note line. Again, Beethoven plays with the listener’s sense of the pulse and phrase length by inserting occasional extra beats. The most dramatic moment of the trio is announced with ominous chords in the viola and cello line, and the joined by the second violin, before transitioning back to the rustic bagpipe drone and melody from the beginning. The movement ends with a full restatement of the scherzo section heard initially.
The third movement is one of Beethoven’s most personal utterances, and is certainly among his most cherished works. The movement, which bears the heading “Heiliger Dankgesang eines Genesenen an die Gottheit, in der Lidischen Tonart” (“Holy Song of Thanksgiving to the Divinity by a convalescent, in the Lydian mode”) is Beethoven’s expression of gratitude to God for granting him a recovery from his illness earlier in the year. The Lydian mode that Beethoven utilizes is an ancient ecclesiastical scale that helps to give the music a heightened sense of devotion and spirituality. The movement opens with an extended sacred hymn that then transitions to a more vigorous second section, marked “Feeling new strength”. These two sections alternate back and forth, with each restatement of the hymn becoming more expressive and more vulnerable; Beethoven marks the final statement of the hymn to be played “with the most intimate emotions”. The movement builds to one of Beethoven’s greatest emotional denouements, and then closes with a celestial serenity unparalleled in classical music.
The fourth movement is a playful little march where Beethoven again obscures rhythmic clarity by continually shortening and lengthening phrase lengths. The primary theme of the march is countered by a sweeter second theme, but neither idea remains for very long. Just as the march is beginning to develop, an unexpected recitative bursts forth in the first violin announcing the beginning of the finale. Beethoven uses this same technique in his Ninth Symphony, and there are theories that this recitative in Op.132 was originally intended for that symphony.
The impassioned finale is wrought with agitation and nervous energy, and the music struggles to find rhythmic balance and emotional resting points. Beethoven increases the tempo and intensity before finally allowing the music to soar to the brightness of A major and the ultimate triumphant conclusion.
(notes by Kurt Baldwin)
Grosse Fuge, Op.133
In 1822, Beethoven wrote, “I feel I am on the threshold of great things.” As it turned out, he was correct.
It had been twelve years since his last quartet, the Op.95 “Serioso” when Beethoven received a commission for “one, two or three string quartets” from Prince Nikolas Galitzen, an amateur cellist and longtime advocate of Beethoven’s work. With the Ninth Symphony and Missa Solemnis finally completed in 1823, an exhausted Beethoven took two months off before beginning work on his final string quartets. He completed the Op.127 quartet in February of 1825, the Op. 132 quartet in July, and Op. 130 in November of the same year. Prince Galitzen received his three new quartets in mid-1826, and proceeded to never pay Beethoven for the works. The Schuppanzigh Quartet, a group that championed many of Beethoven’s most challenging new works, premiered the Op.130 quartet on the evening of March 21, 1826. Beethoven, by this point a recluse and extremely uncomfortable at high profile social events, spent the evening of the premiere in a café waiting for news of the audience and critic response. The six-movement quartet was received well, with the exception of the giant fugal last movement, which overwhelmed the audience.
At the urging of his friends and publisher, Beethoven reluctantly agreed to write a new concluding movement for the Op.130 quartet in the hopes that the work as a whole would be more readily accepted. Beethoven completed the new finale for Op.130 in November of 1826, and the giant fugal last movement, or Grosse Fuge, was published as a freestanding composition, and given the catalog number of Op.133.
The Grosse Fuge begins with a thirty measure Overtura where Beethoven presents the fugal subject of the movement in four different versions, which he uses as the foundation for the entire movement. After an initial unison chord, Beethoven offers four quick glimpses of the jagged primary fugal subject in four differing forms: the first, a heavy statement played together by all four instruments; the second, a quick and syncopated version; the third, a softer more lyrical statement; and the fourth, a tentative line sung by the solo first violin.
The main body of the fugue then begins with the first violin playing an angular second theme against the viola’s presentation of the primary fugal subject from the Overtura. With these two musical ideas, Beethoven builds a complex double fugue full of unexpected dissonance and dense rhythmic combinations. Within the movement, there are two slower and softer sections of music, both built on variations of the fugal subject, that offer momentary respites from the rigors of the body of the movement. The coda is announced with a loud unison statement of the fugal subject, and the movement then comes to a swift and decisive conclusion.
The Grosse Fuge remains today one of the most monumental single movements of music in the history of western music. Its contemporary sound and robust character continue to challenge listeners, and it reveals to us the complex psychology of Beethoven at the height of his compositional prowess and social reclusion. Igor Stravinsky, one the greatest artistic innovators of the twentieth century said of Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge: “this absolutely contemporary piece of music will remain contemporary forever. . . I love it beyond any other.”
Quartet in F Major, Op.135
As the end of Beethoven’s life drew near, his general health and state of mind worsened rather quickly. In addition to battling physical ailments, bouts of deep depression, and serious financial problems, Beethoven was also drawn into looking after his teenage nephew, Karl, whom he thought of as a son. In the fall of 1826, Beethoven, in an attempt to help Karl with his own fits of depression, took his nephew on an extended retreat to the country. During those months, August through September of 1826, Beethoven carried only a sketchbook that contained his work on Op.135. On the return trip to Vienna, Beethoven was forced to ride in an open cart in a terrible weather, and fell ill with the case of pneumonia that would eventually take his life. Beethoven’s last string quartet and final complete piece, the Op.135 quartet, was finished on October 30th, 1826. Beethoven died the following March, in 1827.
In many ways, Beethoven’s final quartet is not what we might expect from the great master of the string quartet genre. With his profound exploration of the concept of content influencing and even dictating form in his middle period, and the epic scope of expression depicted in his late quartets, we expect Beethoven’s final work to be a continuation of his former process. Instead of writing an even bigger, broader musical landscape, he retreats in Op.135 and presents a distillation of his journey as a composer. The music of Op.135 is deep and introspective, especially when you remember that it is his last piece, but it manages to achieve a clarity and transparency that recalls the work of his master teacher, Franz Joseph Haydn. Having said this, one cannot imagine a better closing chapter to the life of Beethoven, truly a spirit and voice for the ages.
In the first fifteen measures of the work, Beethoven presents the four basic musical elements that comprise the transparent texture of the sonata form first movement. The piece opens with an eerie utterance from the viola and quivering response from the first violin. This initial brooding character and blurry tonal center is followed by an almost ebullient first theme statement in F major that is shared by the upper three instruments of the quartet and accompanied by the cello. Then, the instruments present a cantus firmus (fixed melody) in unison, a portentous melody that Beethoven will vary and use both as a bass line and primary thematic element. Having now presented all the material he needs to work with, Beethoven begins splintering and combining the various elements to create contrast, variety, and even a sense of conversation between the instruments.
The scherzo second movement is as much fun to listen to as it is to play. Beethoven’s use of musical ingredients is very confined in this movement, but his prowess as a master of variety and unexpected organization is on display throughout. The syncopated melody in the first violin at the opening is the backbone of the movement and is shared throughout as the instruments of the quartet toss the duties of leader and follower around the group. The finite order of the scherzo is obliterated by the tumultuous trio, a moment where we see Beethoven’s fearlessness as a composer. With the first violin playing a brilliantly virtuosic leaping melody, Beethoven writes the lower three instruments to play a ferociously unrelenting measure of accompanying music forty-seven times in a row! This seemingly chaotic section is diffused with a clever chromatic segue that brings the bouncing theme from the opening of the music back into view. Up to the very end of the movement, Beethoven is full of surprises.
Acting as the calm after the storm, Beethoven presents the elegiac third movement, a brief work built on the form of theme and variation. The tranquility of the movement is established at the outset as each voice of the quartet enters one after the other, slowly unveiling the richness of the D-flat major tonic key. The theme of the movement, a recitative-like melody played by the first violin, is accompanied by richly voice chords in the lower three instruments. Beethoven’s clever use of variation evolves slowly and discreetly, and only ever serves to heighten the serenity of the movement.
The last movement of Op.135 is famous because of the heading at the beginning of the movement: “Der schwer Gefaßte Entschluß” (“The Difficult Decision”). Just below this statement, Beethoven wrote the question “Muß es sein?” (“Must it be?”), and the response “Es muß sein!” (“It must be!”) During the last years of Beethoven’s life, a close circle of friends and admirers held private parties at their homes to hear concerts of Beethoven’s music. It was a slightly competitive circle of devotees, as each host vied for the opportunity to be the first to get their hands on Beethoven’s latest work. One friend, a prominent businessman who hired musicians to perform at his party, bragged that he could always get whatever music he wanted from Beethoven. But when this man, Ingaz Dembscher, failed to appear at a party celebrating the unveiling of the Op.130 quartet in March, his next request for music in April from Beethoven was denied by the composer. It was suggested that he could restore himself to the good graces of Beethoven if he were to pay the composer the full price of the missed concert. “Must I?” he said. In reply, Beethoven wrote a canon for four male voices based on the “It must be!” motive (to be sung “quickly and angrily”). When Op.135 was completed a few months later, the “Muß es sein?”, “Es muß sein!” motives appeared at the heading of the last movement of the quartet.
The last movement, marked Grave, opens with a slow and ominous exchange built on the “Muss es sein?” motive. The stark mood is almost operatic in nature, and lays the foundation for dramatic exploration. The emphatic chords that the instruments share, as a group and in pairs, are orchestral in character, and recall a bit of the Ninth Symphony. When the “Es muß sein!” motive enters in the two violin parts, it throws the door open with emphatic enthusiasm. The first violin leads the bright texture, with reassuring lines in the other instruments bolstering the mood. The second theme is a charming folk tune that offers a lovely contrast to the earthy first theme. Beethoven presents a second more extended Grave section, which introduces the recapitulation of the movement and sets up a restatement of the first allegro section. The coda is made up of an innocent sounding plucked version of the folk-tune second theme from earlier in the movement that clears the texture for the final fortissimo unison statement of the “Es muß sein!” theme. The movement ends triumphantly, and is a fitting finale to the great master’s heroic life.