The big event for early 1868 was the premiere in Paris of his Quintet for Piano and Strings in F minor, Op. 34. This was the failed string quintet that had morphed into a sonata for two pianos and had morphed yet again into this configuration. Brahms would not be at the piano for this one, but Luise Japha, one of the few female pianists outside of Clara that Brahms respected, would. It would become one of the great warhorses of the piano chamber repertory and a genuine masterpiece.
The first subject in F minor is stated in unison by piano, first violin and cello before taking off like a scalded cat. At 1:22 he introduces the second subject in the remote key of C# minor, and the key change is so smooth you hardly feel it. At 2:48 he turns to D-flat Major for his resolution. At 3:27 he heads back to the beginning for the repeat of the exposition. (I’ve always had problems with this first ending because it’s rather awkward and unconvincing.) At 6:57 he begins his development, and at 9:40 he begins his recapitulation. This time, at 10:43, the second subject comes back in the equally remote key of F# minor. At 11:10 he returns to F minor only to shift to F Major. At 13:08 the strings works the F Major theme in filagree while the piano plays an F pedal point. This relaxes the mood, until at 14:23 Brahms releases the air brakes and sends his freight train down the grade, accelerating, until it slams into a wall of F minor at the end.
Brahms: Quintet for Piano and Strings in F minor, Op. 34, first movement
The slow movement in A-flat Major provides a respite. This is written in 3/4, but in a slow “one-and-two-and-three-and.” Note that the piano plays just a bit off both the downbeats and off-beats. At 2:36 he starts his middle theme in the remote key of E Major. At 4:07 he returns to A-flat, and at 5:07 he brings back his first theme. He sums it up grandly and beautifully at the end.
This recording from 1966 started the entire chamber music revival that continues to this day. Rubinstein was 79, and the Guarneri Quartet was just starting out a long and distinguished career. Rubinstein actually studied under one of Brahms’ students.
The scherzo in 6/8 and C minor starts mysteriously with a “things that go bump in the night” flavor. Whatever it is, you don’t want to look, until 0:21 when the mystery turns out to be a grand theme in C Major. He lowers the temperature, switches to 2/4, builds it up and brings the grand theme back at 1:49. Once again he goes to 2/4 for a buildup to the cadence at 3:12. The middle “trio” section in C Major is yet another grand theme. At 4:32 he repeats the opening section.
No one would have thought that Brahms would introduce his finale with an exercise in dissonance. Wagner would have loved it! Brahms denies the listener enough information to figure out what key he is in. Just when you think you have it figured out, he takes you somewhere else. At 1:52 he finally settles into F minor, and for his subject, he picks the folk song “Frere Jacque” – “Bruder Martin” in German – as his tune, minus the repetition of phrases and in a minor key. At 3:08 he relaxes the pace and quickens it again at 3:38. His transitional passage at 4:13 breaks the theme into little fragments. At 4:47 the opening theme returns. At 7:38 he quotes a bit of the introduction, and at 8:09 he starts the first of three codas by switching to C# minor before returning to his home key of F minor. Those are final sounding F minor chords at 8:53, but Brahms sends it into overtime and charges right into his second coda. At 10:06 he starts the third coda and races to the end at a breakneck pace.
Having labored in the vineyard of chamber music for eight years, Brahms, at age 35, decided he was ready to write for orchestra again. April 10, 1868 was Good Friday, and at the Bremen Cathedral, Brahms led an ensemble of friends and acquaintances in a piece that had been in gestation for years. It was the “German Requiem”, and it was to establish Brahms in the top rank of composers.
But that’s for next week.