Introduction to Schoenberg VI: The Second String Quartet

We now find ourselves at a most critical stage of our journey into the world of Schoenberg's music. Once again, I had to really think long and hard to come up with a suitable piece to recommend as the next step in our journey through Schoenberg's sound-world. The options I had here included the First String Quartet Opus 7, and the First Chamber Symphony Opus 9. Dika Newlin mentioned that when she first started to study with Schoenberg, the only two works she found most readily comprehensible were Verklärte Nacht and the First String Quartet. The First Quartet does has some very Brahmsian sounding themes in there. However, Schoenberg himself regarded his brilliantly Haydenesque and Neo-Classical First Chamber Symphony as the finest achievement of his early period. Instead of going with either of these two works, I ended up cutting straight to the heart of the matter with the Second String Quartet, Opus 10 in F sharp minor (1906–1908).

There is a simple reason why I am cutting straight to chase by skipping to the Second String Quartet: this is one of the finest and most profoundly moving things Schoenberg ever wrote. Theodor Adorno went so far as to say that this may even be the greatest thing that Schoenberg ever wrote, and it is not at all hard to see where he was coming from. Which is not to say I necessarily agree with him, of course, but you can see exactly what he means.

In previous posts in this series on Schoenberg I have mentioned how profoundly influenced all the composers of the Second Viennese School are by Brahms. It should come as little surprise to learn that Schoenberg and Brahms both wrote the same number of string quartets – four. The style and character of the themes in the First Quartet are truly remarkably Brahmsian, particular the opening movement. The Second sounds less overtly Brahmsian, however, its novelty consists in bringing together two classically Viennese forms – the Lied and the string quartet. Its poetic handling of the subject of death and transcendence make this work awfully like the Schubert of Death and the Maiden. It is probably little coincidence that, unlike the vast majority of the so-called "Viennese" composers, both Schubert and Schoenberg were born and bred in Vienna.

The Second Quartet represents a move away from the grand opulence of previous large-scale works towards the start of a descent into an increasingly dark and introspective world preoccupied by obsessive thoughts of Death, Angst and Care (Sorge). This spiritual and emotional introspection in the Second Quartet combines with an ethereal and sublime sense of mystery, bordering on coolness, in what is a deep meditation on the subject of death. Yet along with it comes an equally profound yearning for metaphysical transcendence. If Scriabin's mysticism drove him to a transcendence of tonality, then a similar yearning drove Schoenberg to the same destination. It was a destination to which Schoenberg felt driven by Fate. It is a transcendence that is as much spiritual and emotional as it is musical or harmonic. It is typical that the break-through into a metaphysical realm beyond tonality should occurs precisely on the words "I feel the air of another planet". It is a rapt moment that is difficult to listen to without getting cold shivers down the spine out of sheer awe and wonderment.

I imagine that some will point out that in late Mahler, such as the Ninth Symphony, tonality also collapses. This certainly happens during the development of the opening movement of the Ninth, but somehow a tonal compromise is attained, however perfunctorily, as though the recapturing of tonality equates with an aversion of some collapse into choas. With Schoenberg it is less a case of tonality collapsing, than of being driven to transcend it. It is little surprising that, when during a private gathering, Mahler urged Schoenberg and Webern to familiarise themselves with Dostoevsky, Webern replied "but we have Strindberg". Strindberg was a friend of Edvard Munch.

The Town by August Strindberg

In the Second Quartet, Schoenberg abandons his usual practice of combining all movements into one. He returns to the classical four movement form. In the second movement, he even makes quasi-humorous quotations of a popular song "O du lieber Augustin - alles ist hin" (oh my dear Augustin, all is at an end). Only the last two movements have a soprano part to them set to poems by Stefan George.

Stefan George

As usual, I found all of the published translations of the German text to be well short of satisfactory and I have written my own. In addition to being more faithful to the original text, I think I have better managed to convey its inner rhythm, and sense of pacing of the poems. I hope you find that it renders them much more readable and captivating.

Litany 

Deep is the mourning that overshadows me,
Once more I step, Lord, into your house.
Long was the journey, weary are the limbs,
Empty are the shrines, full though my anguish.
The tongue thirsts for wine.
Hard-fought was the battle, stiff is my arm.
Grant rest to my faltering steps,
Hungry lips devour your bread!
Weak is my breath that cries out to the dream,
Hollow are the hands, feverish the mouth.
Lend me shade, douse the blaze,
Blot out all hope, banish all light!
Embers within my heart still flare upwards,
In the deepest depth a cry awakens.
Kill that craving, close that wound!
Take away from me all love, give me your joy. 

Litanei 

Tief ist die trauer die mich umdüstert,
Ein tret ich wieder, Herr! in dein haus.
Lang war die reise, matt sind die glieder,
Leer sind die schreine, voll nur die qual.
Durstende zunge darbt nach dem weine.
Hart war gestritten, starr ist mein arm.
Gönne die ruhe schwankenden schritten,
Hungrigem gaume bröckle dein brot!
Schwach ist mein atem rufend dem traume,
Hohl sind die hände, fiebernd der mund.
Leih deine kühle, lösche der brände.
Tilge das hoffen, sende das licht!
Gluten im herzen lodern noch offen,
Innerst im grunde wacht noch ein schrei.
Töte das sehnen, schliesse die wunde!
Nimm mir die liebe, gib mir dein glück!

Rapture 

I feel the air of another planet.
Through the darkness, pallid face,
Turn toward me, friendly only just.
Trees and paths that I loved fade
So that I barely recognise them any more,
And you bright beloved shadows—summoners of my anguish—
Now you are fully extinguished inside deep embers
So that after the frenzied struggling rampage
They may appear in a shudder of piety.
I am dissolved into sound that circles and weaves
With unfathomable thanks and unnamed praise
I gladly give myself up to the great breath.
A violent gust passes over me
In the rapture of the consecration, where fervent cries
Plead for worshipping women cast down into the dust:
Then I see a fragrant mist rising
In a sun-filled, open expanse
That embraces only the very farthest mountain peaks.
The ground looks white and as soft as whey,
I climb over immense ravines.
I feel as if above the final cloud
Swimming in a sea of crystalline radiance—
I am only a spark of the holy fire
I am only a roaring of the holy voice. 

Entrückung 

Ich fühle luft von anderem planeten.
Mir blassen durch das dunkel die gesichter
Die freundlich eben noch sich zu mir drehten.
Und bäum und wege die ich liebte fahlen
Dass ich sie kaum mehr kenne und du lichter
Geliebter schatten—rufer meiner qualen—
Bist nun erloschen ganz in tiefern gluten
Um nach dem taumel streitenden getobes
Mit einem frommen schauer anzumuten.
Ich löse mich in tönen, kreisend, webend,
Ungründigen danks und unbenamten lobes
Dem grossen atem wunschlos mich ergebend.
Mich überfährt ein ungestümes wehen
Im rausch der weihe wo inbrünstige schreie
In staub geworfner beterinnen flehen:
Dann seh ich wie sich duftige nebel lüpfen
In einer sonnerfüllten klaren freie
Die nur umfängt auf fernsten bergesschlüpfen.
Der boden schüffert weiss und weich wie molke.
Ich steige über schluchten ungeheuer.
Ich fühle wie ich über letzter wolke
In einem meer kristallnen glanzes schwimme
Ich bin ein funke nur vom heiligen feuer
Ich bin ein dröhnen nur der heiligen stimme.

Notice the words about giving "myself up to the great breath", and the parallel with Isolde's giving herself up to the "Weltatem" (World-Breath) in her final Transfiguration (commonly called the Liebestod).

I am not going into an analysis of the quartet in any shape or form. I think the breathtaking beauty of the last two movements more than speaks for itself.

The critical thing about a performance of this work is that both the string quartet parts and the vocal part are equally important. There has to be a perfect artistic partnership and understanding between them. The singer also has to be a very good Lieder singer, able to convey the depth of meaning in the text, while working collaborating artistically with a string quartet – something few singers will have any experience with. It is an unusual, and immensely challenging partnership, that, when it works, is pure magic.

My first recommended recording for this work comes from the Petersen Quartet with Christine Schäfer.

I find both the playing and the singing to be superb. The soloist and quartet seem to be artistically in unison – the most important aspect of this work. Schäfer is suited to this part as she is also a highly accomplished Lieder singer, who conveys the meaning of the words superbly. The Webern Langsamer Satz (1905) on this recording makes a good follow up to his Passacaglia for Orchestra, both being very Brahmsian in their overt Romanticism. The appearance of the largo desolato on its own, taken from Berg's Lyric Suite, however, is rather odd. I would have thought that the andante amoroso might have been a better choice on its own.

If you can find it on CD, the recording by the Arditti Quartet with Dawn Upshaw is also superb. The Arditti-Upshaw team together make a powerfully communicative unified statement, that ultimately make them remarkable advocates of the work.

At the moment I can only find it as a download on iTunes and Amazon. However, both offer the downloads in lossy formats more suitable to pop music.

Until the Petersen Quartet recording came along I had always most admired the classic recording by the LaSalle Quartet with Margaret Price.

Price sings exceptionally beautifully, even if she does come across as slightly detached, as though cultivating beauty for its own sake (some feel that about her Isolde as well). Nonetheless, anyone who loves this work simply must hear her. Unfortunately, I find the performance only comes alive when Price enters, with the playing of the LaSalle Quartet, when on their own, sounding rather disinterested. I much prefer the interpretation of the Petersen and Arditti Quartets in the first two movements. However, singer and quartet together convey a powerful artistic vision.

Another worthwhile performance comes the New Vienna Quartet with Evelyn Lear.

I like the polished playing of the quartet and Lear also sings her part beautifully. The Entrückung is particularly good. Perhaps overall as a team they fall just so slightly short of conveying the ultimate in a powerful unified vision.

Another worthwhile performance comes from the Schoenberg Quartet with Susan Narucki singing the soprano part.

The Schoenberg Quartet play beautifully, but Narucki is less than fully convincing. Although she sings nicely enough, she seems to lack experience as a Lieder singer and misses the ultimate in depth and profundity. In particular, she fails to convey the meaning of the words as a great Lieder singer should. The soloist and quartet lack the sort of deep artistic unity in their statement achieved by others, as though they were unused to performing with one another.

There is also a historic set of recordings by Rudolph Kolisch, who gave most of the premier performances under the composer's supervision. Schoenberg mentions the recordings in his letters. The complete set of string quartets are available from Music & Arts.

The performance of the Second Quartet is in limited sound, but remains impassioned and heartfelt, right down to the use of somewhat more portamento than is fashionable today. They are a world away from those bizarre performances that try to superimpose a stereotype of mechanical modernist doctrinairism onto the music, seemingly taken straight out of a Nazi Entartete Kunst propaganda pamphlet (Schoenberg's music was banned and labelled as degenerate – entartet – by them).

There is also an arrangement by Schoenberg for string orchestra and soprano. However, I greatly prefer the original chamber music version. The large scale version feels bloated and loses its profound intimacy. Not even Astrid Varnay with Dimitri Mitropoulos can make me fully warm me to this arrangement.

The recording sounds like a radio recording in a rather dry mono sound.

Jean-Jacques Kantorow and Christina Hogman with the Tapiola Sinfonietta give us a modern alternative, in the typical beautiful sound we have come to expect from BIS:

It rather reminds me of Mahler's arrangement of Schubert's Death and the Maiden quartet for string orchestra.

It is utterly beyond all comprehension that music so profoundly moving and utterly sublime as this is so rarely played. I will take this work to my desert ahead of Le Sacre du Printemps any day. It is the very apotheosis of Viennese Romanticism that anyone who can they call their heart own their cannot fail to be moved by.