Schubert Arpeggione Sonata, D821

Last Saturday I got a chance to play the Schubert "Arpeggione" Sonata for the first time.  One of the interesting things about having been a violinist who didn't really pick up the viola until after the end of my formal training is that I missed out on a lot of the standard viola literature, and the Arpeggione Sonata is one of those pieces.

It's really funny how the Arpeggione Sonata is one of the staples of the viola literature, since it wasn't even written for the viola.  Schubert composed the piece for a new instrument, the arpeggione, which went in and out of fashion so fast that this sonata is pretty much the only piece for it.  The arpeggione is tuned like a guitar, with six strings and frets, but is bowed like a cello.

It's fascinating how carefully Schubert considered the strengths and weaknesses of the arpeggione in writing this piece.  The keys of the movements (A minor, E major, A major) work very well for the strings of the instrument.  The biggest drawback of the arpeggione is that, with six strings, the bridge has to be quite flat, and so it's very difficult to play loudly without hitting more than one string.  Schubert avoids this problem by having almost the whole piece marked "piano" or "pianissimo", except when there are double stops, or when the notes are to be played on the highest string (therefore making it easier to avoid hitting another string by mistake).

All this, of course, is lost when you play the piece on the viola.  Those keys aren't particularly good for the viola, and there's no need to play quietly all the time!  Not to mention that the viola can't actually play as low as the arpeggione, so some passages have to be taken up an octave. 

Still, it's a beautiful piece, filled with those amazing Schubert melodies.  But I want to talk about the beginning of the second movement, the first four notes of the viola in particular.

When I was a kid, I had the companion book to Leonard Bernstein's television broadcasts about music.  I didn't see any of the shows at the time; this was back when you had to watch what they were showing on television (how barbaric that seems now).  But the book was fascinating, and I remember one lecture in particular, The Infinite Variety of Music.  This discussed how much composers can get out of four notes: sol-do-re-mi, in that order, or, as Bernstein puts it, "How Dry I Am".  It's a wonderful exploration: well worth watching.  And here, in the slow movement of the Arpeggione Sonata, the same four notes!  Maybe Schubert wasn't as original as we suppose. :-)

Mozart Violin Sonata in D major, K306

Continuing the both the Mozart birthday celebration and the Mozart violin sonata cycle, last night was the Mozart Violin Sonata in D major, K306, the last of the set published as Opus 1. 

Neither DG nor I were in our best form last night: he'd had a very long and busy day, which used up much of the brain power he applies to his amazing sight reading.  And I was using my backup viola bow, since both of my other bows are off being rehaired.  Bows do actually make a difference!

Still, a wonderful sonata from beginning to end.  There's a great Haydn-esque touch in the first movement, with the themes scrambled in the recap: we don't get a reprise of the first theme until nearly the end.  The second movement is beautiful, even by the standard of Mozart slow movements, and the last movement is just pure fun, particularly the extended dual cadenza near the end.

Mozart Violin Sonata in A major, K.305

As if three-plus string quartets in an afternoon weren't enough, I had my usual evening at DG's house, ending with a violin sonata, Mozart's A-major, K. 305.  This is one of a set of six that were published as Mozart's Opus 1 (not to be confused with the childhood violin sonatas, K.6 and K.7, also published as Opus 1).  No wonder no one uses Mozart's opus numbers in talking about his music!  Anyway, these six sonatas, K. 301-306, are an absolute delight; I would have been very happy with my purchase if I'd bought them when they were first published.

DG and I had an interesting discussion after finishing the first movement about how Mozart used a diminished seventh chord as a shortcut to get back to the tonic in time for the recapitulation.  I correctly diagnosed how this particular chord was serving in a dominant function to a B-flat major chord on one side, and to an E-major chord on the other side.  Fun stuff.  I am, after all, an engineer, so I feel a natural affinity to music theory.

Piazzolla “Oblivion” and “Handel” Sonata in F, Op 1/12, HWV370

On Sunday evenings I go over to my friend DG’s house, and after dinner and board games with his kids, we usually have time for one or two violin sonatas.  DG is an amazing pianist, and an incredible sight-reader.  His improvisational skills are also excellent, so when he makes a sight-reading mistake, it usually sounds completely correct.  The only problem is, the violin part sometimes doesn’t fit with what he’s playing!

I usually bring my violin to DG’s house, even though I consider myself primarily a violist these days.  There are just so many more readable violin sonatas than viola sonatas (we’re on our second time through the Mozart sonatas, for example).  Perhaps after DG’s piano recital this spring he’ll have some time to practice the piano parts to some viola sonatas.

We started this evening with a violin-piano transcription I’d done of Piazzolla’s “Oblivion”.  A wonderful little piece, although I think it will sound even better an octave lower on the viola (particularly the final octave glissando down to the open C string).

DG’s wife had asked for Handel sonatas (perhaps she’s tired of Mozart), so I’d unearthed the copy from my childhood, and this evening, we played the F major, the only one I’d worked on back then.  It was great fun, even though modern scholarship labels this sonata as “spurious”.  I’m not one to look down on a piece of music just because it wasn’t written by a “great” composer!

This edition was interesting for a couple of reasons.  The copyright date was from the 1960s, and it was amusing to see what was standard for Baroque music before the original instruments revolution.  It was completely filled with additional dynamics, along with romantic bowings and fingerings.

It was also nostalgic for me to see my violin teacher’s handwriting.  I think Angelo LaMariana was a great teacher: very good with children, with just the right blend of firmness and gentleness.  He had a love of all kinds of classical music, up to the most modern: it was he who introduced me to the Bartok Duos I mentioned last time.  He passed away just a couple of years ago, and I miss him.