Anton von Webern’s Quartet for violin, clarinet, tenor saxophone, and piano, op. 22

The composer

Anton von Webern was born in Vienna, Austria, in 1883. (The predicate von identified those of aristocratic heritage until a 1918 revolution outlawed its use; the composer’s works were published under the name Anton Webern.) His father’s career in mining engineering caused the von Webern family to move several times during Anton’s youth; in Klagenfurt at the turn of the century he studied piano and music theory under Edwin Komauer. He also learned to play the cello and participated in community orchestras. His earliest compositions, for piano and cello, date from this period. In 1902 he was deeply impressed by performances of several Wagner operas, and entered the University of Vienna to study musicology and composition. Before receiving a doctoral degree in 1906, he began studying privately with Arnold Schoenberg.

Upon leaving Schoenberg’s tutelage, Webern and fellow Schoenberg protégé Alban Berg began experimenting in earnest with their teacher’s method of twelve-tone composition. Webern worked as a conductor in several theaters, but preferred to concentrate on composition. In 1911 he married his first cousin, Wilhelmine Mörtl, with whom he had three children.

Webern found parallels between twelve-tone composition and the music of the Renaissance he had studied in Vienna—both endorsed classical strictness of form and complex polyphony. Other influences on Webern’s work included authors such as Johann Goethe and poet Hildegard Jone. (Information in this section is from antonwebern.com, a web site published by Pixelrush.)

The composition

Webern’s Op. 22, Quartet for Violin, Clarinet, Tenor Saxophone, and Piano, was first conceived in September 1928. A detailed account of its creation is found in Anton von Webern: A Chronicle of His Life and Work, by Hans and Rosaleen Moldenhauer. According to their narrative, Webern wrote to his publisher, “I have turned again to a new work: a concerto for violin, clarinet, horn, piano, and string orchestra—in the spirit of some of Bach’s Brandenburg concertos.” He outlined in his sketchbook a three-movement work with themes inspired by several Austrian locations apparently having personal significance. The following year, a letter to Alban Berg indicated that the work was nearing completion, and had changed its form and instrumentation and length—two movements, rather than three—to that of the work that would eventually be published.

Webern was distracted by other projects and did not complete the quartet until September of 1930. It was performed shortly thereafter in Vienna, to harsh abuse from music critics. Webern’s fellow composers of the Second Viennese School, however, deemed it a masterpiece. Berg wrote, “This Quartet is a miracle. What amazes me above all is its originality. One can assert with confidence that there is nothing in the entire world of music production that attains even approximately such a degree of originality, i.e. a full hundred percent.” Schoenberg called it “fabulous.”

Analysis: Sehr mäßig

The first movement, Sehr mäßig (very moderate), most resembles a sonata form. The five-measure introduction to the first movement uses two simultaneous tone rows, P7 and I5. (The second movement was composed first, so the first tone row presented in that movement is labeled P0 in most published analyses.) These rows are passed between the violin, saxophone, and piano, immediately demonstrating the sparse, pointillistic texture of the piece. The clarinet plays only two notes, consecutive staccato F-sharps (all pitches are expressed here as concert pitches). These F-sharps reveal much about Op. 22. F# is the point of intersection between the two rows of the introduction when organized in a matrix, and also their point of intersection in these opening melodic lines. This device is used almost constantly throughout the first movement; virtually every row form is used in combination with that row which it intersects at F#. Pierre Boulez points out in the liner notes to the London Symphony recording that the F# above middle C is played twice, staccato, in each instance. This F# is also the registral axis of symmetry of the first movement.

Kathryn Bailey’s thorough analysis of Quartet in The Twelve-note music of Anton Webern is invaluable in understanding the piece (pp. 171-178). Bailey explains that the exposition introduces the two main themes of the first movement. The primary theme is played by the saxophone, row I7 followed by I1. In a departure from traditional sonata form, the second theme is introduced almost simultaneously. This second theme is in the form of a mirror cannon with F# as the reflecting point. It is played by the piano, violin, and clarinet, with the second part of the canon following the first by one sixteenth note. The exposition is repeated, for a total of twenty measures.

The development section consists of four units of three bars each. The development uses more dramatic intervals and greater dynamic contrast, and moves more quickly through row forms. The first, second, and fourth units, however, have only two simultaneous voices, compared to three in the exposition. Each of these also uses two tone rows. The third unit, the climax of the movement, uses five simultaneous voices (each hand of the pianist playing a separate voice) and four tone rows. Each of the row forms is used in the climax, at T6 (P6, I6, R6, and RI6). The climax is indicated by the extreme high and low pitches of the movement, a high and a low C, each two octaves and a fifth from the central F# (Bailey 171).

The recapitulation presents the themes again with their original row forms and transpositions, though the leaps are inverted (for example, in the exposition, the first theme begins on C#, moves up to E, then down to F; in the recapitulation, it begins on C#, moves down to E, then up to F). Rhythmic development in the piano creates more frequent two-note “chords” (Bailey 174).

Development and recapitulation are each repeated, with only a very slight variation in the piano in the final bar of the recapitulation. The five-measure coda then presents the introductory rows again, this time in retrograde form.

Analysis: Sehr schwungvoll

Webern wrote several letters and sketchbook entries regarding the form of Sehr schwungvoll (with much momentum), the second movement of Quartet. His comments on the movement, however, are of questionable value in its interpretation, since it seems to have undergone a series of metamorphoses in development. An early sketch indicates a rough ABACABCA form, though Webern also apparently remarked on the movement’s “exact analogy” to a scherzo from Beethoven’s piano sonata op. 14 (A[B]ACADA). Webern’s finished product, though seemingly freely composed, may be loosely interpreted as an ABACABA rondo (Bailey 243-244).

The first theme of the A section, comprising bars 1-19, uses only untransposed row forms: P0, R0, I0 and RI0. The second A theme, bars 20 to 32, explores the T6 rows at a more moderate tempo. In this theme, a rather free sort of canon is developed with a two-voice texture (Bailey 245).

The first B episode introduces two more themes, each using a variety of row forms and transpositions, but both emphasizing the T2, T3, T4, and T9 groups. The first B theme is at the initial tempo of the movement, the second, at bar 51, slightly slower. Both themes are loosely canonic in form. The sixty-third measure reintroduces the A material, still slowing in tempo. A brief transition uses R5 and R11 in bars 88-93 (Bailey 246-247).

Episode C, bars 93-121, presents I8, R1, RI8, P11, and R11 almost as a single line, with some parallel motion between the clarinet and saxophone and occasional dyads in the piano. This theme is in stark contrast to the rest of the movement because of its sparseness and slower rhythm. The harmonics played by the violin add to the dissimilarity. The same rows are then presented again, substituting RI6 for R11 and using a denser texture and an overall louder volume. At bar 121, a brief, accelerating transition with fortissimo supertriplets leads into the unhurried third A refrain (Bailey 247).

The final episode, bars 153-182, adds T7 and T8 rows to the material from the first episode. It also resembles the first episode due to its distinctive though inexact canon and due to the dynamic and performance markings. These elements relate the last episode strongly to the first, emphasizing the rondo form (Bailey 247).

The last refrain uses the opening row material again, this time at extremely loud dynamic levels-except for the final note, played by the saxophone at pianissimo.

The most striking characteristic of the quartet’s second movement is its freedom. Experts regard it as one of Webern’s most unrestrained and unconventional works (Leland Smith, “Composition and Precomposition in the Music of Webern,” p. 100). Its imprecise canonic elements, oddly placed tempo changes, and twisting of classical forms are unusual for Webern-though not entirely unheard of (Bailey 248-249).

Conclusions

Webern’s Quartet, op. 22, represents the composer’s talents at the height of his creative career. His organization is absolute, but, at the same time, his freedom is refreshingly bold. The simplicity-within-complexity of the Quartet rival, and, indeed, acknowledge and praise the works of the great “tonal” composers who preceded him.

Matrix for Quartet, op. 22

0 9 8 11 10 2 3 4 5 7 1 6
0 F# Eb D F E G# A Bb B C# G C
3 A F# F G# G B C C# D E Bb Eb
4 Bb G F# A G# C C# D Eb F B E
1 G E Eb F# F A Bb B C D G# C#
2 G# F E G F# Bb B C C# Eb A D
10 E C# C Eb D F# G G# A B F Bb
9 Eb C B D C# F F# G G# Bb E A
8 D B Bb C# C E F F# G A Eb G#
7 C# Bb A C B Eb E F F# G# D G
5 B G# G Bb A C# D Eb E F# C F
11 F D C# E Eb G G# A Bb C F# B
6 C A G# B Bb D Eb E F G C# F#

First movement, sonata form

Introduction

1-5 P7, I5 rows; staccato F# motive introduced

Exposition

6-15 Primary theme in saxophone; secondary theme mirror canon

[repeat exposition]

Development

16-18 First developmental unit; mirror canon continues throughout development

19-21 Second unit

21-24 Third unit; climax of pitch and density; all T6 row forms are used

24-27 Fourth unit

[grand pause]

Recapitulation

28-37 Return of original row forms from exposition; some alterations in line movement and rhythmic content

[repeat development and recapitulation]

Coda

37-41 Rows from introduction presented in retrograde

Second movement, rondo form

Refrain A

1-19 Primary theme; untransposed (T0) row forms

20-32 Secondary theme; T6 row forms; canon

Episode B1

33-50 Primary theme; episode uses a variety of row forms

51-62 Secondary theme

Refrain A

63-87 Primary A theme returns

88-93 Transition

Episode C

94-121 Textural, rhythmic, and timbral contrasts

121-131 Transition

Refrain A

132-152 Both A themes return

Episode B2

153-182 Expanded row vocabulary; canon

Refrain A

182-192 First A theme returns; dynamic contrast

Bibliography

Kathryn Bailey, The Twelve-note music of Anton Webern: Old forms in a new language (Cambridge, 1991).

Pierre Boulez, liner notes to recording Complete Works: Anton Webern, London Symphony Orchestra/Pierre Boulez, Sony Classical: Austria, 1991.

Hans Moldenhauer and Rosaleen Moldenhauer, Anton von Webern: A Chronicle of His Life and Work (New York, 1979).

Pixelrush, http://www.antonwebern.com (April 4, 2001)

Leland Smith, “Composition and Precomposition in the Music of Webern,” in Anton von Webern: Perspectives, compiled by Hans Moldenhauer (Seattle, 1966), pp. 86-101.

Similar Posts

  • But I can do it in the practice room

    Every week I hear students play badly, then tell me, “but I can do it in the practice room…”

    Here are some reasons things might go more poorly in a lesson than in a practice session, and some strategies for dealing with those problems.

    photo, Derek Bruff
    photo, Derek Bruff
    • It’s possible that you’re not really playing any differently. Things seem worse because having someone else listen heightens your sense of what you really sound like. Try recording yourself while practicing, then listening back. It can be a painful revelation, but it can bring problems to your attention and improve your ability to really hear yourself as you play.
    • It’s possible that your mastery of the music is really only borderline, and the normal stress of having an audience is enough to cause trouble. This is what I call “sight-reading mode.” It’s not that you are necessarily playing the music for the first time, but you are still at the point of having to mentally process each note as it goes by. For more stress-proof performance, put in more slow, accurate repetitions when practicing to build your muscle “memory” and aural memory.
    • It’s possible that your mastery of the music is good, but your stress is above normal. In this case the problem isn’t your practicing per se. Improve your ability to play in front of others with techniques for managing performance anxiety. These might include healthy lifestyle habits (sleep, nutrition, and exercise) or mental exercises (like visualization, affirmations, or mindfulness practice).

    Don’t make excuses, look for solutions!

  • Please lose the music binder

    For some reason a high percentage of my incoming students each year like to make a 3-ring binder for their sheet music and lesson materials. I don’t know why.

    They apparently put a fair amount of time and money into this project, which often involves custom cover artwork, dividers, and plastic sheet protectors. As the semesters go by, the binder fills up with every bit of sheet music they have used, until the binder is so heavy that a music stand won’t support its weight.

    I applaud and relate to their interest in keeping things organized and their enthusiasm for the course. But the big music binder just doesn’t work very well. Here are my complaints: Read More “Please lose the music binder”

  • “Next” steps in preparing repertoire

    I think many aspiring musicians pass through a phase in their development where they have “learned” fingerings, music reading skills, and other fundamentals at a basic degree of mastery, and turn their attention to developing sufficiently fluent technique (mostly finger technique) to tackle the instrument’s standard literature. Once they acquire that fluency and tackle that repertoire, they will begin to deal with the nuances of interpretation.

    Whether this is the best way to do things is a subject for another post (or book), but the reality is that a lot of advancing music students, including many of my university students, are at a point where they are very focused on playing notes in time in tempo, and when they achieve that level with an étude or repertoire piece, sometimes they don’t have a clear idea of what else needs to be done to bring the assignment to a performance level.

    Photo, S. Parker
    Photo, S. Parker

    If you or your students find yourself in that holding pattern, here are just a few ideas of what to “add” to your technical preparation:

    • Are you following all the composer’s marked articulations? dynamics? tempo changes?
    • In the places between the dynamic markings, are you giving the phrases appropriate shaping?
    • Is each note in tune? Does each note have a characteristic, pleasing, and consistent tone? Does each note respond precisely when and how you intend it to?
    • Have you familiarized yourself with all of the composer’s textual indications, and translated them if necessary? Are you making them audible?
    • Are you using vibrato (if applicable) in a purposeful and expressive way?
    • Are you taking a purposeful approach to performance practice? For example, are you using historically-informed approaches to ornamentation, dynamics, tempo, articulation, etc.? Or, alternatively, have you made a conscious and well-informed decision to break from these?
    • Have you studied live performances and recordings of this work by the finest musicians, compared their interpretations, and made careful choices about which ideas to incorporate or adapt into your own performance?
    • Have you thoroughly studied the full score, and do you understand how your part fits into the whole?
    • Do you have opinions about the formal structure, and are you using those to shape your overall interpretation?

    Those are just a few, but probably enough to keep most of us busy for a lifetime of study. Feel free to add some more in the comments.

  • Confident entrances

    It’s deceptively difficult to make a correct entrance after a rest. Here’s what I recommend for maximum confidence and security: Read More “Confident entrances”

  • Wind controllers as “practice” woodwinds

    Can you use a wind controller, like the Akai EWI, the Yamaha WX, or the Roland Aerophone, as a convenient and/or quiet way to practice a “real” woodwind instrument, like the saxophone or the flute?

    No, not really.

    You can practice some very limited aspects of woodwind playing. For example, each of those wind controllers has fingering patterns that resemble (but are not identical to) the fingerings of standard woodwinds. If you are in the very early stages of playing a woodwind instrument and still trying to memorize fingerings, I suppose you could use a wind controller to help you with that specific task, to the extent that the fingerings do match.

    The Akai instruments have saxophone, flute, and oboe modes, plus the more flexible “EWI” mode that is quite saxophone-like, and even a couple of variations of a valved-brass-inspired mode. The Yamaha WX5 has several saxophone modes and a flute mode. The Roland instruments are set up to map fairly directly to saxophone fingerings, even going so far as to include some of the saxophone’s more problematic features like “palm” keys. However, with that exception, none even have all the keys needed to learn proper saxophone, flute, or oboe technique.

    (None of the instruments currently has a clarinet mode, presumably because the real-clarinet phenomenon of overblowing to odd-numbered partials raises some complications for an electronic instrument capable of many octaves of range. And none of the instruments has the physical keys to reasonably approximate bassoon technique.)

    Plus, in all cases, including the Rolands, none of them can fully imitate the “feel” of a standard woodwind. Beyond the very basic stage of learning fingering patterns, much of the fingering work that woodwind players practice has to do with nuances of the fingers’ interactions with the keys. Even switching from one flute to a slightly different model of flute can mean having to re-adapt to the keys’ precise locations, spring tensions, etc. Switching between a flute and a wind controller is a much larger leap.

    And, of course, no major wind controller currently provides a realistic approach to tone production. None has a reed that functions as such, and none has a flute-like embouchure hole. There are some superficial similarities like breath pressure being mapped to volume, or a bite-able mouthpiece that allows for something like saxophone-style jaw vibrato (or to the ill-advised reed instrument technique of bending pitch with jaw movement).

    So, can you practice on it? Not really.

    But the good news is that wind controllers (particularly, in my opinion, the Akai EWIs) have lots of potential as instruments in their own right. (If you aren’t familiar, look no farther than Michael Brecker’s playing for an eye-opener.)

    Rather than looking at wind controllers as a “practice” instrument or a low-budget stand-in, consider a wind controller to be an additional avenue for expression. Playing it well requires just as much hard work, but also brings worthwhile creative rewards.

  • Thinking through scales

    My university woodwind students have to pass a scale exam as one of the requirements to progress in their degree program. They have to be able to play major scales and three forms of minor scales, plus arpeggios, through the “full range” of the instrument, from memory.

    Many of my students learned their major scales in their school band programs, well enough to have most of them in muscle memory. But some of them are less familiar with the minor scales.

    It can be a little overwhelming to keep track of 48 different scales. With plenty of accurate repetitions my students can get to the point of muscle memory for all 48. But in the meantime sometimes they get stuck trying to remember the right notes for the next scale, or get mixed up and play the wrong one.

    I find it very helpful to have a mental roadmap for thinking through the next scale, and especially so if I can relate it to something I already have in muscle memory. My map might go something like this, but there are lots of possibilities:

    • C major scale: already in muscle memory, little or no “thinking” needed. As I play, notice the first, third, and fifth scale degrees, so I can use them in the next step.
    • C major arpeggio: first, third, and fifth degrees of the scale I just played.
    • C natural minor scale: since it’s a minor scale, I’m going to lower the third from E to E-flat. And E-flat major is the relative key to C minor, and I have E-flat major in my muscle memory, so I can play that same pattern of notes without too much thought.
    • C harmonic minor scale: now that I’ve got C natural minor under my fingers, I just need to change one note to produce the harmonic minor: B-flat becomes B-natural.
    • C melodic minor, ascending: this one is just like the C major scale I played a minute ago, but lower the E to E-flat.
    • C melodic minor, descending: this one is just like the C natural minor scale (related to E-flat major) that I played a minute ago. Notice the first, third, and fifth scale degrees, so I can use them in the next step.
    • C minor arpeggio: first, third, and fifth degrees of the scale I just played.

    Another approach that appeals to some of my students is to think in terms of scale degrees: start with the major scale that’s already in muscle memory, and remember that for, say, harmonic minor, you have to lower the third and the sixth.

    Having an organized way of thinking through the scales helps prevent the paralysis and overwhelm of trying to conjure up the whole scale from nothing. When my students take their exam, nobody minds if they take a few moments to think before they start playing, but getting stuck mid-scale would be a problem.

    As you get better and faster at thinking through the scales, a good way to push yourself is to use a metronome, and limit yourself to a pre-set amount of time before the next scale starts. Maybe a certain number of beats (or, ultimately, zero beats) before jumping into the next one. If that doesn’t go well in the practice space, you know that particular transition is a problem spot, and can reorganize your efforts accordingly.

    Happy practicing!

One Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comments that take a negative or confrontational tone are subject to email and name verification before being approved. In other words: no anonymous trolls allowed—take responsibility for your words.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.