What is Sonata Form?

Sonata Form

The word sonata has been used, over the centuries, to mean many things musical, perhaps too many things musical, so before we begin our exploration of sonata form, it behooves us to get a handle on the various meanings of the overused term.

Sonata means "sounded piece" implying a work that is played, or "sounded" on an instrument or instruments. In its earliest usage (during the Renaissance) the word sonata was a generic term, synonymous with "instrumental music". (For our information, the complementary term to sonata is cantata, a "sung piece" of music).

By the Baroque era, the word sonata began to be applied to various multi-movement instrumental works for both solo instruments and chamber groups. It wasn't until the Classical era that the term took on the two meanings for which it is still understood today.

First, sonata is an instrumental genre: a multi-movement work for solo piano or piano plus one other instrument. Since the Classical era, a piano sonata has been understood to be a multi-movement work for piano, and a designation such as violin sonata or cello sonata or clarinet sonata is understood to mean that instrument plus a piano.

Second, sonata as we understand it today refers to a specific musical form, sonata form. We will often see sonata form referred to as sonata allegro form, in order to further differentiate it from the instrumental genre of sonata.

In order to establish what makes sonata form special, we would step back for just a moment and observe other Classical era forms.

Theme and Variations form (unless entitled "double variations") features one theme only - no contrasts, departure, or returns. In Minuet and Trio form, the opening minuet is perceived as the principal theme. It is departed from and contrasted by the trio; it then returns to create thematic closure. Rondo form features one principal theme; it is departed from, contrasted, and returned to multiple times. Sonata form is that formal process that evolved to accommodate the presentation, interaction, and re conciliation of multiple principal themes, most typically two in number, Our first job, then, is to deconstruct sonata form.

Technically, sonata form evolved from something called Baroque binary dance form. Spiritually, sonata form was inspired by dramatic procedures inherent in opera. Let us discuss these dramatic procedures and, at the same time, observe their parallel in sonata form.

In the first act of an opera, we meet the principal characters and encounter the situation on which the drama will turn. In the first large section of a sonata form movement - a section called the exposition -  we meet the (typically two) principal theme that become the characters in the musical drama. The expressive nature of those themes, and the degree of contrast between them, create the situation on which the musical drama will turn.

As an opera progresses, stuff happens: action and interaction between the characters, drama, comedy, pathos, bathos, whatever. In the second large part of a sonata form movement, called the development section, the themes interact in passages characterised by great harmonic instability and expressive interest to create drama, comedy, pathos, bathos, whatever.

The closing scene of an opera sees the denouement - the moment of truth - during which the dramatic situation plays itself out; the characters learn something of themselves and thus reconcile themselves to the events that have taken place. In the third part of a sonata form movement - called the recapitulation - the theme return in their original order but with important changes, changes that reduce the degree of contrast (and conflict) between them and that, as a result, allow the themes to be reconciled to one another. An opera will typically conclude with finale and curtain calls. A sonata form movement, much more often than not, will conclude with a coda, there to create a convincing sense of conclusion.



From the book "How To Listen To Great Music", by Robert Greenberg

Introduction to the Classical Era

Enlightened Is as Enlightened Does

An Introduction to the Classical Era

The Classical era is understood as running from 1750 to 1827, from the death of Bach to the death of Beethoven. Even as period dates go, these are awful, and here's why.

While Johann Sebastian Bach's death in 1750 affords us a serviceable year to end the Baroque era, it's a fairly useless year with which to begin what we now call the Classical era. Those musical stylistic elements that we will soon enough define as being "Classical" reached their first real flower in Italy in the early1730s. For at least twenty-five years, stylistically Baroque and stylistically Classical era music coexisted, like the Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon. In reality, it isn't until the 1760s that those stylistic elements we would identify as Baroque had become a thing of the past.

Concluding the Classical era in 1827 with Beethoven's death is absurd. Instead, we should end it in 1803, the year Beethoven composed the bulk of his Symphony no.3 and, in so doing, rendered classicalism obsolete in our outrageous act!

The evolution from the high Baroque to Classical musical style was a mirror of an extraordinary social evolution that we, today, call the Enlightenment.

The Enlightenment, circa 1730 to 1780, was a period that saw the institutions of Europe - religious, political, social, educational, industrial, financial, and artistic - slowly but inexorably lower their focus from the aristocracy and the high clergy to a new class of people then emerging from the bowels of the new European mercantilism and the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. For lack of a better name, we call this new and growing class the middle class, and the Enlightenment marked their initial entry into the mainstream of European society. A new brand of humanism, philosophical humanism, evolved, one that asserted that all people were important, not just representatives of the Church and the state.

Since the beginning of recorded time, European class structure and wealth had been based upon hereditary land ownership, But by the early eighteenth century, new patterns and methods of trade and manufacturing had contributed to creating a nouveau wealthy class whose wealth was based not on inherited real estate, but rather on accumulated cash.

This new middle and non-aristocratic upper class, by the sheer weight of their numbers, buying power, and growing political influence, began to assert terrific pressures on their respective societies to meet their needs and desires.

The nouveau riche wanted to be educated and consequently, it was during the Enlightenment that the concept of universal education first emerged. They wanted at least a modicum of political power and greater degree of control over their own lives.

The new middle class also wanted an end to social and religious injustice. People in the middle and upper classes began to believe that and institution was "good" tot he extent that it did the greatest good for the greatest number of people. The faith in reason that had inspired the scientific community during the seventeenth century was steered, with the result that social institutions and mechanisms were put under the scrutiny of common sense. The middle class wanted quality of life, comfort, and upward mobility.

From a purely social point of view, Enlightenment humanism was, perhaps, the most important of all the intellectual currents of the the time. Enlightenment humanism stated that life on earth and the quality of that life were as important as the afterlife promised by religion. Making the best out of an earthly life became a basic desire for the new middle class.

For the most part, the hereditary monarchies and aristocracies that still ruled Western Europe are grudgingly willing to oblige. In the 1760s, '70s, and '80s (up until the advent of the French Revolution), most such bigwigs were, to some degree or another, "enlightenment": that is, concerned for the well-being of the "little people" to a degree unheard of in previous European history.


From the book "How To Listen To Great Music", by Robert Greenberg

Mozart's Last Three Symphonies

Mozart at the Summit:
The Last Three Symphonies

July of 1788 was a bad time for Wolfgang Mozart. It was hot and humid. His wife, Constanze, was in poor health and away at the spa in Baden. Mozart's own health was not particularly good, and his infant daughter, teresa, had just died on June 29. Mozart, deeply in debt, was in the process of begging money from anyone who'd listen to him. Given this information, many commentators have, over the years, fallen into the trap of attributing autobiographical substance to Mozart's dark and even violent G minor Symphony. Are they Right?

NO. Because, back to back with his G minor Symphony, Mozart composed two of his most brilliant and upbeat works. He composed the glowing and gorgeous Symphony no.39 in E-Flate Major between June 10 and 26. He then composed the G minor Symphony, completing it on July 25, after which he wrote out the magisterial and magnificent Symphony in C Major, the Jupiter, completing it on August 10.

In fact, Mozart was among the least autobiographical composers in the canon. His music came from a source frankly divorced from issues and worries of the everyday.

Without resorting to voodoo or a discussion of extraterrestrials, it's hard to say where Mozart's music did come from. let us take these three perfect symphonies as an example. there are no extant sketches for any of them; Mozart apparently sat down and wrote them out in full score, as quickly and as neatly as a copyist could copy them. There are no erasures or alterations on the scores: everything is written with a firm, confident hand. (Mozart referred to this process as "copying out"; he did not refer to it as "composing". The implication is that the symphonies were complete, to their every detail, somewhere in his noggin, and all he needed todo was write them down, "copy them out", something he could do while he was talking, drinking, playing billiards, bowling, whatever). Referring to the apparent ease with which he composed, Mozart once wrote, "I write music the way cow piss", and inelegant if not inaccurate appraisal of his abilities.

Mozart was freaky. It's no wonder he scared the bejesus out of his contemporaries.

Wolfgang Mozart

From the book "How To Listen To Great Music", by Robert Greenberg

Ludwig van Beethoven

Ludwig van Beethoven

For many people, Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827) represented the highest level of musical genius. His unique stature is comparable to Shakespeare's in literature and Michelangelo's in painting and sculpture. He opened new realms of musical expression and profoundly influenced composers throughout the nineteenth century.

Beethoven was born on December 16, 1770, in Bonn, Germany. Like Bach and Mozart before him, he came from family of musicians. His grandfather, also need Ludwig, was music director at the court at bomb. His father, Johann, was a tenor who held a low position in the court and who saw his talented son as a profitable prodigy like Mozart. It's told that Johann  Beethoven and a musician friend would come home from the local tavern late at night, house young ludwig from sleep, ad make him practice at the keyboard until morning. At the age of eleven, Beethoven served as assistant to the court organist, and at twelve he had several piano compositions published.

Beethoven went to Vienna when he was sixteen to improvise for Mozart. Mozart reportedly said, "Keep your eyes on him; some day he will give the world something to talk about." Beethoven then return to Bonn, because his mother was critically ill. She died shortly after. His father, who had become an alcoholic, was soon dismissed from the court choir. Beethoven, at eighteen, became the legal guardian of his two younger brothers. By now, Beethoven had become a court organist and violist and was responsible for composing and performing; suddenly, he was also head of a family.

Shortly before his twenty-second birthday, Beethoven left Bonn to study with Haydn in vienna, where he spent the rest of his life, In 1792, Haydn was at the height of his fame, too busy composing to devote much time or energy to teaching, As a result, he overlooked errors in Beethoven's counterpoint exercises, and Beethoven felt forced to go secretly to another teacher. (Haydn Never learned of this). Beethoven's drive for thoroughness and mastery - evident throughout his life -  is shown by his willingness to subject himself to a strict course in counterpoint and fugue even after he had composed fine works.

Beethoven's first seven years in vienna brought hard work, growing confidence, a strong sense of identity, and public praise. His letters of introduction from members of the aristocracy in Bonn opened the doors of social and cultural elite in this music-loving city. People were dazzled with his piano virtuosity and moved with his improvisations. "He knew how to produce such an impression on every listener", reports a contemporary, "that frequently there was not a single dry eye, while many broke out into loud sobs, for there was a certain magic in his expression". Beethoven rebelled against social convention, asserting that an artist deserved as much respect as the nobility. Once while playing in an aristocratic drawing room, he was disturbed by the loud conversation of a young count. Beethoven jumped up from the piano, exclaiming, " I will not play for such swine!" For a long time he was a guest of Prince Karl von Lichnowsky, who told his personal servant that if ever he and Beethoven rang at the same time, Beethoven should be served first. The same aristocrats who had allowed Mozart to die in poverty a few years before showered Beethoven with gifts. He earned good fees from piano lessons and private concerts. Publishers were quick to buy his compositions, even though some critics complained they were "bizarre" and " excessively complicated".

Disaster struck during his twenty-ninth year; Beethoven felt the first symptoms of deafness. Doctors could do nothing to halt its progress or to relieve Beethoven's physical and emotional torment. In 1801, he wrote despairingly, "For two years I have avoided almost all social gatherings because it is impossible for me to say to people ' I am deaf '. If I belonged to an other profession it would be easier, but in my profession it is a terrible handicap". On October 6, 1802, Beethoven was in Heiligenstadt, a village outside Vienna where he sought solitude during the summer. That day he expressed his feelings in what is now known as the Heiligenstadt testament, a long, agonised letter addressed to his brothers. Beethoven wrote, "I would have ended my life -  it was only my art that held me back. Ah, it seemed to me impossible to leave the world until I had Brought forth all that I felt was within me".

Beethoven's victory over despair coincided with an important change in his musical style. Works that he created after his emotional crisis have a new power and heroism. From 1803 to 1804, he composed the gigantic 3rd Symphony, the Eroica. a landmark in music history. At first, he planned to name it Bonaparte, after Napoleon, the first consul of the French Republic. Beethoven saw Napoleon as the embodiment of heroism and the champion of the principles underlying the French Revolution. Liberty, equality, fraternity were stirring words that expressed Beethoven's democratic ideals. But when he learned that Napoleon had proclaimed himself emperor of the French, Beethoven "flew into a rage and cried out, ' He too is nothing but an ordinary man! Now he will trampled under foot all the rights of man and only indulge his ambition. He will exalt himself above all others and become a tyrant!' "Seizing his score, Beethoven tore out the title page bearing Napoleon's name and change it into Eroica.

For more information about Beethoven 3rd Symphony "Eroica" : 

http://classical-music-maniac.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-eroica-symphony-beethoven.html

In 1812, Beethoven met Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the great German poet he had long worshipped. He played for Goethe, and the two artist walked and talked together, shortly after this meeting, Goethe described Beethoven to a friend as "an utterly untamed personality". To his wife, the poet wrote, "Never before have I seen an artist with more power of concentration, more energy, more inwardness". Despite such description by people who know him, Beethoven remains a mystery. He was self-educated and had read widely in Shakespeare and the ancient classics, but he was weak in elementary arithmetic. He claimed the highest moral principles, but he was after unscrupulous in dealing with publishers. Although orderly and methodical when composing, Beethoven dressed sloppily and lived in incredibly messy apartments. During his thirty-five years in vienna, he changed dwelling about forty times.

Beethoven fell in and out of love with several women, mostly of noble birth, but was never able to form a lasting relationship. He wrote a passionate letter to a woman refereed to as the "immortal beloved"; it was found in a drawer after his death. Only recently has a Beethoven scholar established her identity as the Viennese aristocrat Antonie Brentano. Beethoven took consolation from nature for disappointments in his personal life. Ideas came to him while he walked through the Viennese countryside. His 6th Symphony, the Pastoral, beautifully expresses his recollections of his life in the country.

Beethoven was never in the service of the Viennese aristocracy. A growing musical public made it possible for him to earn a fairly good income by selling compositions to publishers. His stature was a great that when he threatened to accept a position outside Austria in 1809, three nobles made a special arrangement to keep him in Vienna. Prince Kinsky, Prine Lobkowitz, and Archduke Rudolf -  the emperor's brother and Beethoven's pupil - obligated themselves to gove Beethoven an annual income. Their only condition was that Beethoven continue to live in the Austrian capital - an unprecedented arrangement in music history.

As Beethoven's hearing weakened, so did his piano playing and conducting. By the time he was forty-four, this once brilliant pianist was forced to stop playing in public. But he insisted on conducting his orchestral works long after he could do it efficiently. The players would become confused by his wild gesture on the podium, and performances were often chaoctics. his sense of isolation grew with his deafness. Friends had to communicate with him through an ear trumpet, and during his last eight years he carried notebooks in which people would write questions and comments.

The Music of Nineteenth Century (Romantic Era)

The Music of the Nineteenth Century

The Romantic era is understood as running from the death of Beethoven in 1827 until 1900. Were we compelled to do so, we could come up with better dates. It is compulsion we will, for now, ignore.

The adjective romantic comes from the noun romance. A romance was a story or poem that dealt with legendary people and/or events written in one of the romance languages, that is one of the languages descended from Roman (Latin). For example, the medieval poems about King Arthur were called Arthurian romances. As a result, when the adjective romantic was first used during the seventeenth century, it referred to something remote, legendary, fantastic, and marvellous, beyond the everyday work of real life.

When applied to the art and literature of nineteenth century, then, the word romantic refers not to physical love or affection but rather something that is beyond the everyday. Where a twenty-first-century individual, when met with something incredible, might say, "Far out, man", her nineteenth-century counterpart would have said, "Most romantic, dude".

The big difference between the music of Classical era and that of the Romantic era has to do with expanded expressive content and the incremental changes to the musical language that were made in order to describe the expanded expressive content.

We must be wary of the word inevitable. In truth, few things are inevitable: death,perhaps (but certainly not taxes, not if you've got your money in a numbered account in Cayman Islands). Nevertheless, given the social evolution that marked the European world from the seventeenth to nineteenth century, there does appear to be a certain inevitability to the development of Romantic art.

The music of the Baroque era in general, and opera in particular, acknowledge and celebrated the individual human voice to a degree entirely new in past-ancient world. During the Enlightenment, the dramatic and homophonic elements of Baroque opera were institutionalised in the instrumental genres and musical forms of classicism. Beethoven, having come to the conclusion that music was above all a self-expressive art, adhered to Classical era rituals only to the degree that they served his expressive needs.

In his lifetime, Beethoven was regarded by many as an eccentric modernist whose late music, in particular, could be written off as the product of a slightly crazy, hearing-impaired composer. However, it didn't take long time for the generation of composers who came into their prime immediately after Beethoven's death to embrace him as the Moses of new music, one that would lead them to an expressive promised land relevant to the changing social and economic realities of 1830s and '40s.

Danhauser's painting Liszt at the Piano (1840) illustrates perfectly the Romantic era infatuation with the Beethovenian "ideal". Pictured is a Parisian salon filled with some of the greatest artists of the day. For his inspiration,Liszt is looking at a monumental marble bust of Beethoven perched on the piano. The bust is seen against a window, which frames a roiling and turbulent sky, as if to say the Beethoven is one with the gods, that he cannot be contained in a mere room.Typical of Beethoven's postmortem deification, the bust looks more like Tyrone Power than the short, ugly, smallpox-scarred Ludwig van Beethoven. For the great majority of composer and listeners of the mid- and late-nineteenth century, Beethoven was viewed as a spiritual guide, as a hero,  as a deity, as a catalyst for the expressive evolution that we now call romanticism.

Liszt at the Piano, by Josef Danhauser (1840)

For the audiences of the Romantic era, music became the ultimate art form. The remote, boundless, ephemeral, non tactile nature of music, particularly instrumental music, made it the ideal art for the nineteenth century . Its detachment from the world, its mystery, and its incomparable power of suggestion - which works on the mound directly without the mediation of words - made it the dominant art, the one most representative among all the arts of the nineteenth century. According to the nineteenth century English essayist Walter Pater, "All art aspires to the condition of music".

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

From the book 'How to Listen to Great Music', by Robert Greenberg

Vienna Philharmonic New year Concert 2015