Sonata, Violin and Piano, A Minor, op. 34 (1896)
AMY BEACH
Born 5 September 1867, Henniker, NH.
Died 27 December 1944, New York, NY.
Amy Marcy Cheney Beach’s Sonata for Violin and Piano, Opus 34, was composed in 1896, probably for the renowned violinist Franz Kneisel. It was premiered by Kneisel and Beach on January 4, 1897, in New York, and was frequently performed by them in subsequent years both in the United States and in Europe. Eugène Ysaÿe and Raoul Pugno gave the European premier in the Salle Pleyel in Paris in April, 1900, and Carl Halier and Theresa Carreño gave the German premier in Berlin on October 28, 1900. It is probably the finest violin-piano sonata ever written by an American, and it is arguably the best work by Beach.
Amy Cheney was born in Henniker, New Hampshire, on September 5, 1867. Descended from a distinguished family of statesmen and educators, she showed immense talent on the piano as a child and made her debut in Boston on October 24, 1883. A year and a half later, at age 17, she played both the Chopin F Minor Concerto with the Boston Symphony and the Mendelssohn D Minor Concerto with the Theodore Thomas Orchestra – all within a few weeks.
Seemingly off to a spectacular concert career, she suspended her public performances temporarily from 1885 to 1910 when she was married to Dr. Henry H. A. Beach, a professor of medicine at Harvard; it was not deemed proper for the wife of a professional gentleman to appear on stage. Therefore, during this time she developed her genius as a composer and wrote, among many other pieces, the Mass (1891), her Gaelic Symphony (premiered by the Boston Symphony in 1896), the Piano Concerto (1899), the Piano Quintet (1907), and the violin-piano sonata.
After the deaths of Dr. Beach in 1910 and her mother the following year, Mrs. Beach resumed her career as concert pianist in Europe (two extended visits) and in America. She lived in Boston, New York, and New Hampshire – a frequent resident of the MacDowell Colony. She continued to compose, especially religious works and songs; her String Quartet (1929) and Piano Trio (1938) were her final chamber pieces. She died on December 27, 1944, in New York City. Only nowadays has her music been able to overcome the ridiculous prejudices of her own time when, as she lamented, the music of a contemporary American woman composer was dismissed because it was contemporary, American, and “feminine.”
The Sonata belongs to the rare class of masterpieces alongside the Cesar Franck and Gabriel Fauré sonatas. It is in four movements following a scheme common to many Romantic sonatas: a large, imposing sonata-form first movement, a light scherzo second movement, a lyric and pensive third
movement, and a bombastic finale. It combines luscious violin melodies with bravado pianisms that flow smoothly and blend in rapturously chromatic Wagnerian harmonies. It is in A Minor, with A Major as a destination, yet there are modal (lowered leading tone) vacillations and unusual modulations that are natural and unforced. It is a model of late-nineteenth-century harmony of the French school just prior to Debussy.
The first movement is in sonata form. The monophonic, legato first theme, which occurs first in the piano, is built on a rising fifth and a modal scale. It recurs at the beginning of the development section, heralds the recapitulation, and closes the coda. The dynamic bridge is in sharp contrast, signaled by forte chords. The second theme is again lyrical, but now in the key of E Major. There is no repetition of the exposition, but instead we move directly into the development in the unexpected key of G Minor. After an exciting climax to the development, the first theme of the recapitulation, back in A Minor, grows imperceptibly out of the end of the development. The second theme this time is in A Major, and the movement ends with the coda back in A Minor.
The second movement is a three-part scherzo. It opens and closes with light, carefree fast sections, whose texture is contrapuntal with imitation between the violin and each hand of the piano. The G Major key of these outer sections contrasts with the G Minor key of the middle, slower section. Inspired by the open E, A, and G strings of the violin, the entire sonata utilizes the sound of these strings. As we have seen, the first movement dwells on A with the second theme in E. The use of G here in the second movement, then, as well as at the beginning of the development of the first movement, is not a normal relationship within the key of A, but the fact that it is the open string produces a resonance that Beach clearly admired. To emphasize this, in the middle section of the second movement the violin plays virtually nothing but the open G string. It is an amazing tour de force for Beach whose piano harmony is rich and varied while maintaining the drone on G in the violin.
The third movement is a lyrical, often intense expression of deep grief. It is in three sections. In a poignant, flowing nine-beat rhythm, the opening, E-Minor melody is first in the piano, then imitated in the violin; it rises an octave only to fall back gently, then rises again and falls back again. Always in a soft dynamic, it subtly expresses mourning. The middle section, however, is not subtle; in G Major, it becomes more and more animated and crescendos to a fortissimo, as if the sadness of the opening has burst into screaming rage. But the sadness returns in the third section, and the quiet if unresolved hurt of the opening is all that is left at the end.
The fourth movement is once again in sonata form and serves as a grand conclusion to the whole sonata. It opens with a lively introduction preparing for the return of the original key of A Minor. After the sonata-form is presented, the introductory material itself recurs as the coda, transformed into an exciting denouement in A Major. The most striking aspect of the development section is a change of texture from primarily elaborated chords and extended melodies into a fugue based on the first theme of the exposition.
The Beach sonata achieves a rare balance between the violin and piano, exploiting the best characteristics of each of these two different-sounding instruments. It achieves this while producing alluring melodies, rich harmonies, propelling rhythms, and natural, unforced forms. Beach is so successful in all these technical aspects that the listener is not conscious of them but rather is immersed in the overall joyous sound.
John Baron
