 Preface to the Piano Forte Sonata. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Piano Forte Sonata. Its Origin and Development by John South Shedlock. Preface. This little volume is entitled The Piano Forte Sonata. Its Origin and Development. Some of the early sonatas mentioned in it were, however, written for instruments of the jack or tangent kind. Even Beethoven's sonatas, up to opus 27 inclusive, were published for claviciambalo or Piano Forte. The Germans have the convenient generic term clavia, which includes the old and new instruments with hammer actions. Hence, they speak of a clavia sonata, written, say, by Cunow in the 17th or of one by Brahms in the 19th century. The term Piano Forte is, however, to be found in letters of a musical instrument maker named Pagliarino, written, as we learn from the valuable article Piano Forte, contributed by Mr. Hipkins to Sir George Grobe's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, already in the year 1598, and addressed to Alfonso II, Duke of Modena. The earliest sonata for a keyed instrument mentioned in this volume was published in 1695. And to avoid what seems an unnecessary distinction, I have used the term Piano Forte Sonata for that sonata and some other works which fall out, and which are usually and properly termed harpsichord sonatas. I have to acknowledge kind assistance received from Mr. A. W. Hutton, Mr. F. G. Edwards, and Mr. E. van de Straten. And I also beg to thank Mr. W. Barclay Squire and Mr. A. Hughes Hughes for courteous help at the British Museum, likewise Dr. Kopfermann, Chief Librarian of the Musical Section of the Berlin Royal Library, J. S. Shedlock, London, 1895. End of Preface, recording by Jordan Watts, Oxfordshire. Chapter 1 of the Piano Forte Sonata by John South Shedlock. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Introductory. In history we find certain names associated with great movements. Luther with the Reformation, or Garibaldi with the Liberation of Italy. Luther certainly posted on the door of the Church of Wittenberg, his famous theses, and burned the papal bull at the gates of that city, yet before Luther there lived men, such as the scholar Erasmus, who have been appropriately named reformers before the Reformation. So too, Kvore's cautious policy paved the way for Garibaldi's brilliant victories. Once again, Leonardo da Vinci is named as the inventor of Chiaroscuro, yet he was preceded by Fra Filippo Lippi, and in similar manner in music, certain men are associated with certain forms. Haydn, for example, is called the father of the quartets. Close investigation, however, would show that he is only a link, and certainly not the first one in a long evolution. So too with the sonata. The present volume is, however, specially concerned with the clavier, or piano forte sonata. And for that we have a convenient starting point. The sonata in B-flat of Cunow, published in 1695. The date is easy to remember, for in that same year died England's greatest musician, Henry Purcell. Before studying the history of the piano forte sonata, even in outline, it is essential that something should be said about the early history of the sonata. That term appears first to have been used in contradistinction to cantata. The one was a piece sounded, suonata from sonando, by instruments. The other, one sung by voices. The form of these early sonatas, as they appear in Giovanni Gabrielli's work towards the end of the 16th century, was vague. Yet, in spite of light imitations, the basis was harmonic, rather than contrapuntal. They were among the first fruits of the renaissance in Italy. But soon there came about a process of differentiation. Praetorius, in his Sintagma Musicum, published with Wulfrenbudel in 1619, distinguishes between the sonata and the canzona. Speaking generally, from one seems to have come the sonata proper, from the other the sweet. During the whole of the 18th century, there was a continual intercrossing of these two species. It is no easy matter, therefore, to trace the early stages of development of each separately. Marpurg, in his description of various kinds of pieces, in his Clavier Stuka, published at Berlin in 1762, says, sonatas are pieces in three or four movements, marked merely allegro, adagio, presto, etc. Although in character, they may be really an element, corante, and gig. Corelli, as will be mentioned later on, gave dance titles in addition to allegro, adagio, etc. Marpurg also states that, when the middle movement is in slow time, it is not always in the key of the first and last movements. This again shows intercrossing. The genuine sweet consists of several dance movements, all in the same key. But we find occasionally in sweets a fugue or fugetta, or even an aria or adagio, and in name, at any rate, one dance movement has formed part of the sonata since the time of Immanuel Bach. In 1611, Mancieri, an Olivitan monk, published Venice, his Logano Sranarino, a work useful and necessary to organists, thus runs the title page. At the end of the volume, there are some pieces, vocal and instrumental, a concerto for soprano or tenor, with organ, a Fantastica, Ricciacata, etc. Among which are to be found two sonatas, one entitled Prima Sonata, Doppio Sogetto, the other Seconda Sonata, Sogetto Triplicato. They are written out in open score of four staves, with mezzo-soprano, alto, tenor, and bass clefs. To show how the sonatas of those days differed both in form and content from the sonata of our century, the first of the above mentioned is given in short score. It will, probably, remind readers of the first, i.e. sonatas, that my, i.e. Dr. Bernie, musical inquiries have discovered. Namely, some sonatas by Francesco Turini, which consisted of only a single movement in fugue and imitation throughout. Turini was organist of Brescia Cathedral, and in 1624 published Madrigali a una, due, tre, voci, con alcune, sonate e a tre, Venice 1624. Between Turini, also Carlo Farina, who published violin sonatas at Dresden in 1628, and Corelli, born 1653, who brought out his first work in 1683, one name of great importance is Giovanni Lagrenzi. In the eighth volume of Dr. Bernie's musical extracts, there are two sonatas, a tre a due violini e violone, by Lagrenzi, opera octava 1677. The first is in B-flat. It commences with a movement in common time, entitled La Bnivoglia. An adagio in G minor, only six bars, is followed by an allegro in D minor, six eighth time, closing on a major chord. Then eight bars common time in B-flat, no heading, and finally a presto, three, four, commencing in G minor and closing in B-flat. None of the movements is in binary form. The second sonata in D has five short movements. Number one has an opening of 37 bars in common time, fugato. There is a modulation in the ninth bar to the dominant, and, later on, a return to the opening theme and key. In the intervening space, however, in spite of modulation, the principal key is not altogether avoided. Sonatas of various kinds by Lagrenzi appeared between 1655 and 1677. Then there were the vari fiori del giardino musicale uero sonate da camera, etc. of Giovanni Maria Bonassini, father of Battista Bonassini, the famous rival of Handel, published at Bologna in 1669. And the sonatas of Giovanni Battista Vitale, Bologna 1677. And Battista Bassani of Bologna, although his junior by birth, was the violin master of the great Corelli. His sonatas only appeared after those of his illustrious pupil, yet may have been composed before. Of the twelve in Opus 5, most have many short movements. Some, indeed, are so short as to be scarcely deserving of the name. By the time of Archangelo Corelli, who, as mentioned, published his first work, Opus 1, 12 Sonatas for two violins and a bass, in 1683, Sonatas answered to the definition given by Matheson in his Das Nu'er Othnetik Orchester, 1713, in which they are said to consist of alternate Adagio and Allegro. G. J. Wolfer, again in his Dictionary of Music, which appeared in Leipzig in 1732, describes the sonata as a grave artistic composition for instruments, especially violins. The idea of grouping movements was already in vogue in the 16th century. Morley, in his Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music, published in 1597, speaks of the desirableness of alternating pavans and galeards, the one being a kind of stage music ordained for grave dancing, and the other a lighter and more stirring kind of dancing. Contrast was obtained, too, not only by difference in the character, but also in the measure of the music. The former was in common, the latter in triple time. With regards to the grouping of movements, Corelli's sonatas show several varieties. The usual number, however, was four, and the order generally, slow, fast, slow, fast. Among the 48, opuses 1, 2, 3 and 4, published 1685, 1690, 1694 and 1700 respectively, we find the majority in four movements, in the order given above. Footnote. Among the four movements in Opus 1, number 6 in B Minor, has the peculiar order Grave, Largo, Adagio, Allegro. End of footnote. Of the 12 in Opus 3, no less than 11 have four movements, but number 1 in F has Grave, Allegro, Vivace, Allegro. Number 6 in G, Vivace, Grave, Allegro, Allegro. Number 10 in A Minor, Vivace, Allegro, Adagio, Allegro. There are, however, eight sonatas consisting of three movements, and this, a century later, became the normal number we will give the list. Opus 1, number 7 in C, Allegro, Grave, Allegro. Middle movement begins in A Minor, but ends in C. Opus 2, number 2 in D Minor, Alamander, Adagio. Quarente, Allegro, Giga, Allegro. Opus 2, number 6 in G Minor, Alamander, Largo, Quarente, Giga. Opus 2, number 9, F-Sharp Minor, Alamander, Largo, Tempo di Sarbanda, Largo, Giga, Allegro. Opus 4, number 8, D Minor. Preludio, Grave, Alamander, Allegro, Sarbanda, Allegro. Opus 4, number 10, G. Preludio, footnote. The Preludio, Adagio only consists of four chords, or two bars. The Adagio, again, only consists of four bars. The sonata, therefore, may be considered as of three movements. The sonata, therefore, may be considered as of three movements. The sonata, therefore, may be considered as of three movements. Opus 4, number 11, C Minor. Preludio, Largo. Quarente, Allegro. Alamander, Allegro. Opus 4, number 12, B Minor. Preludio, Largo. Alemander, Presto, Giga, Allegro. It is interesting to note that each of the two sonatas, Opus 1 number 7 and Opus 4 number 10, most in keeping with the title of sonata, has the middle movement in a relative key. Opus 1 number 7 begins with an Allegro in common time, and the short grave is followed by a lighter Allegro in six eighths time. The first movement, with its marked return to the principal key, is very interesting in the matter of form. The other sonatas with sweet titles have all their movements in the same key. Locatelli in his dodici sonate for flute, published early in the 18th century, has in the first adante adagio presto, also numbers 3, 5 etc. So too in tartini sonatas, Opus 1, there are also some in 3, number 3 etc. But Immanuel Bach commenced with that number, to which, with few and unimportant exceptions, he remained faithful. Likewise to the slow movement dividing the two quick ones, the three movement form used by J.S. Bach for his concertos and sonatas, no doubt considerably influenced his son. But already, in 1668, Deirdre Becka, in his musicalische frullings fructa, wrote sonatas for violins etc. and continuo in three movements, number 10 Allegro adagio Allegro. Again, sonata 19 opens with a movement in common time, most probably an Allegro, then comes an adagio, and lastly a movement in 1664, most probably quick tempo. These sonatas of Becka, a Trey Quattro or Cinque, with basso continuo, are unfortunately only pointed in parts. As a continuing link between the Gabrielles and Corelli, and more particularly as a forerunner of Cunow, Becka is of immense importance. We are concerned with the clavier sonata, otherwise we should certainly devote more space to this composer. We have been able to trace back sonatas by German composers to Becka 1668, and by Italian composers to Legrenzi 1655, those of Gabrielli and Bancieri as short pieces, not a group of movements, are not taken into account. Now, of earlier history, we do know that Hans Leo von Hasler, said to have been born at Nuremberg in 1564, studied first with his father, but afterwards at Venice, and for a whole year under A. Gabrielli, Italian and German art are thus intimately connected, but what each gave to, or received from, the other with regard to the sonata seems impossible to determine. The Becka sonatas acquired at Hamburg, and surely E. Bach must have been acquainted with them. Becka in his preface mentions another Hamburg musician, a certain Johann Schopp, who did much for the cause of instrumental music. Schopp, it appears, published concertos for various instruments already in the year 1644, and there was still another work of importance published in Amsterdam very early in the 18th century by the famous violist and composer G. Tirelli, which must have been known to E. Bach. It is entitled Siss Sonata or Concerto 4 5 6 Parti, and of these five have three movements, Allegro, Adagio and Allegro. Corelli was the founder of a school of violin composers, of which Gemmianini, footnote 1680 to 1762, end of footnote, Locatelli, footnote 1693 to 1764, end of footnote, Veracini, footnote 1685 to 1750. Veracini is regarded as of the Corelli school, yet it should not be forgotten that his uncle, Antonio Veracini, is said to have published Sonata a tre due violine violone o aciluto col basso continuo po logano at Florence, already in 1662, end of footnote, and Tartini, footnote 1692 to 1770, end of footnote. Were the most distinguished representatives, the first two were actually pupils of the master. In the sonatas of these men there is an advance in two directions, sonata form, footnote, it is important to distinguish between sonata and sonata form. The first movement of a modern sonata is usually in sonata form, but there are sonatas, Beethoven, Opus 26 etc, which contain no such movement. Sonata form, as will be shown later on, has been evolved from old binary form. By sonata is understood merely a group of movements, hence objection may certainly be taken to the term as applied to the one movement pieces of Dom Scalatti, which are not even in sonata form, end of footnote, is in process of evolution from binary form, i.e. the second half of the first section is filled with subject matter of more definite character, the bars of modulation and development are growing in number and importance, and the principal theme appears as the commencement of a recapitulation. We should like to say that binary is changing into ternary form, unfortunately however the latter term is used for a very different kind of movement. To speak of a movement in sonata form containing three sections, exposition, development and recapitulation, as in binary form seems a decided misnomer. The violinists just mentioned were the last great writers of sonatas in Italy, Emanuel Bach arose during the first half of the 18th century, and henceforth Germany took the lead, Bach was followed by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. The influence of the Corelli footnote, it must be remembered that Corelli spent some time in Germany between 1680 and 1683, the latter being the year of publication of his first sonatas at Rome, end of footnote. School was felt in Germany and also in England. Sonatas were published by Verisini at Dresden in 1721 and by Tartini and Locatelli at Amsterdam before 1740. Again Verisini was for some time a solo violinist to the Elector of Dresden 1720-23. Tartini lived for three years at Prague 1723-26, while Locatelli, during the first half of the 18th century, made frequent journeys throughout Germany. Emanuel Bach, the real founder of the modern piano forte sonata, must have been influenced by their works. In a history of the development of the sonata generally, those of Corelli would occupy an important place, for in them we find not only fugal and dance forms, but also hints of sonata form. Dr. Parry, in his article on sonata in Sir G. Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, has named the Corelli's fifth sonata in Opus IV as offering nearly a miniature of modern binary form. The well-known Giga Allegro of the 9th sonata, Opus V, and the Allamander Allegro of the 10th Concerto in C, also present remarkable foreshadowings. Handel, however, furnishes a very striking illustration. In the sixth, sonatas or trios for two whole boys with a thorough base for the harpsichord, said to have been completed already in 1696, we find quick movements in binary form. In sum, the first section offers both a first and a second subject, while in the second section, after modulation, there is a return to the opening theme, though quite at the close of that section. A brief description of one will make the form clearer. The second Allegro of number four in F has two sections. The first, which ends in the dominant key, C, has 46 bars. The opening theme begins thus. A. At the 29th bar, a passage leads to the second theme, B. This second theme is, in a measure, evolved from the first. In any case, it is of subordinate character, and it differs slightly as given by first or second oboe, whereas the principal theme appears in exactly the same manner for both instruments. The second section opens with developments of B, and modulation from C major to D minor. A is also developed, the music passing from the last named key back to the opening one. There is a full close in that key, and then modulation to F. The remaining 22 bars give the first section in condensed form, first and second subjects, and coda. Footnotes. In J.S. Bach's second sonata for flauto transverso and cimbalo, third movement, there is a return to the opening theme in the second section. Also in the presto of the sonata for two violins and figured bass, we have an example very similar to the hobo sonata of Handel and a footnote. It would be interesting to trace the influences acting on the youth Handel at the time when he wrote these sonatas. Most probably they were Johann Philip Kreiger's footnote, Kreiger by the way, Stelio de Bernardo Pasquini at Rome, and a footnote, sonatas for violin and bass. N.A. Strunk's sonatas published at Dresden in 1691, and more especially Agostino Stefani's sonata a camera for two violins, alto and bass, published in 1683. An opera by the last named, which appeared at Hanover in 1699, has an Edebale, which contains the first notes of Let the Bright Seraphim. Besides, it is known that Handel culled ideas and conveyed notes from works of other composers, also that he turned them to the best account. In the same year in which Corelli publishes Opus 1, 1683, Domenico Scarletti, the famous harpsichord player, was probably born. In the history of development his name is the principal one of importance between Corelli and Immanuel Bach. In the matter of technique he rendered signal service, but for the moment we are concerned with his contribution towards development. Scarletti does not seem to have ever considered the sonata in the sense of a work consisting of several contrasting movements. All of his are of only one movement. The title sonata, as applied to his piece, is therefore misleading. Whether the term was actually used by the composer himself seems doubtful. The first thirty of the sixty Scarlatti sonatas, published by Breitkopf and Hartel, appear during the lifetime of the composer at Madrid. They are dedicated to John the Just, king of Portugal, and are merely entitled Es a cizipa cravi cembalo. In editions of the 18th century the composer's pieces are styled lessons or suites. However, twelve published by J. Johnson London are described on the title page as sonatas modernas. From the earliest days of instrumental music, dance tunes were divided into two sections. The process of evolution is interesting. In the earliest specimens, such as the Brannel given in the Orchissographie of Twano Abu, we find both sections in the same key, and there is only one theme. The movement towards the dominant note in this Brannel may be regarded as a latent modulation. In time the first section was developed, and the latent modulation became real. Then, after certain intermediate stages, the custom was established of passing from the principle to the dominant key, or in a minor piece, to the relative major or dominant minor, in which the first section closed. But in Corelli, footnote, compare Corelli, Quarente in 10th sonata of Opus II, also Alamand and Giga of the next sonata, and a footnote, or even Scarlatti, footnote, compare Scarlatti, number 10 of the 60 sonatas published by Breitkopf and Hartel, end of footnote. We find, occasionally, a return to an earlier stage, i.e. a first section ending in the same key in which it commenced. In most of his pieces, Scarlatti modulates to the dominant in minor to the relative major. Some exceptions deserve mention. In the Breitkopf and Hartel collection, number 26 in A major, passes to the minor key of the dominant, and number 11 in C minor modulates to the minor key of the dominant, but the section closes in the major key of the dominant. Scarlatti sonatas consists then of one movement in binary form of the early type. Only in a few of these pieces is there a definite second subject, in none a return to the opening theme. In number 26, there is just a return to the first bar, C second section, bar 11, but the previous 10 bars show no modulation, and one can scarcely speak of thematic development. After a few bars of development and modulation, in some cases, the second section is found to consist merely of a repetition of some part of the first section, the key being tonic instead of dominant. This is practically embryonic sonata form. The tonic and dominant portions of the first section are becoming differentiated, but the landmark, i.e. the return to the opening theme in the second section, which divides binary from sonata form, is in Scarlatti non-existent. His first sections also consist of a principal theme and passages, also phrases indirectly connected with the opening one. Sometimes a chain of short phrases more or less evolved from the opening thought. C numbers 1, 21, 29, these and the numbers which follow refer to the bright cop and heart L edition of 60 Scarlatti sonatas. The composer often passes through the minor key of the dominant in the first section, before arriving at the major. Sometimes the major is introduced only late into the section, numbers 7, 17 etc. or minor remains, number 26. We meet with a similar proceeding in Beethoven. Minor pieces often pass to the dominant minor, but end in major, i.e. first section. In Scarlatti, there is, for the most part, no second subject, but frequently, numbers 5, 7, 9 etc. are concluding phrase which can at times be traced to the opening theme. Sonata 6 in F shows a second subject of a certain independence. The best examples are to be found in numbers 24 and 29 in A and E. In these, the character of the second subject differs from that of the first, and it is also in a minor key, which offers still another contrast. And now, a word or two respecting Scarlatti's methods of development. He alters figures, numbers 12 and 54, extends them, numbers 9 and 54, but often merely repeats passages on the same degrees as those of the first section, or in different ones. He makes use of imitation, numbers 7 and 36. Sometimes he evolves a phrase from a motive, number 11. In number 19, the development assumes a certain importance. It commences, not, as in most cases. With the opening theme or figure of the first section, but with a group of semi-quaver notes which appears later in that section. In number 20, Scarlatti preserves the rhythm, but with total change of notes, number 20. The same number gives another interesting specimen of change of rhythm. In number 48, he picks out an unimportant group of notes and works it by imitation and sequence. There are some interesting specimens of development in the 30 sonatas printed from manuscripts in the possession of Lord Viscount Fitzwilliam by Robert Burchell. Scarlatti's development bars are seldom many in number. After modulation and development, the music slides, as it were, into some phrase of the first section. Footnote. When there is clearly a second subject, that of course offers the point of return. Sc numbers 24 and 39. End of footnote. And allowance being made on account of difference of key, there the music was passing or had passed from tonic. Here it is returning to that key. The rest is more or less a repetition of the first section. More or less, sometimes the repetition is literal, at other times there is considerable deviation and shortening is a frequent. With regard to style of writing for the clavier, a few canonical imitations accepted, there is no real polyphony. Most of the sonatas are in only two parts. The composer revels in rapid passages, runs, broken chords, simple and compound, wide leaps, difficult octaves, crossing of hands, and of course, short shakes innumerable. Domenico Scarlatti was indeed one of the most renowned virtuosi on the clavier. Handel met him at Rome in 1708, and Cardinal Ottoboni persuaded them to compete with each other. We are told that upon the harpsichord the victory was doubtful, but upon the organ, Scarlatti himself confessed the superiority of his rival. Johann Cunow published a sonata for clavier in 1695, and this was followed up by a set of seven sonatas, Frischer Fruckter in 1696, and a few years later 1700 by the seven Bible sonatas. That he was the first composer who wrote a sonata for the clavier is a point that cannot be overlooked, and in the evolution of the sonata he occupies an interesting position. In the Frischer Fruckter there is, as C. H. Parry truly remarks in his excellent article, Sonata, in Sir G. Grove's Dictionary of Musical and Musicians, an awakening sense of the relation and balance of keys, but in the Bible sonatas the form and order of the movements is entirely determined by the Bible stories. As specimens of programmed music they are altogether remarkable, and will later on be described in detail, they do not however come within the regular line of development. It was of course natural that such a new departure should attract the notice of John Sebastian Bach, who was Cunow's immediate successor as Cantor of St. Thomas' school, Leipzig and Spitter in his Life of Bach, the first that composes Capriccio Sopra la Lotenanza del suo fratello Dilettissimo, and reminds us that Cunow, as well as so many others, had some influence on Bach. Of course, among the so many others, Froeberger's name, as we shall see later on from Cunow's preface, deserves a prominent place. In addition to what Cunow says, Matheson has recorded that Froeberger could describe whole histories on the clavier, giving a representation of the person's present and taking part in them with all their natural characters. When writing the Capriccio above named, Spitter believes that Bach was specially influenced by the last of the Bible sonatas. We may perhaps add that Spitter tells us that Bach was intimately acquainted with Cunow. He indeed says, we might doubt the early origin of the Capriccio if its evident dependence on Cunow did not solve the mystery. Then again, in a sonata in D by Bach, published in the Bach-Gesellschaft edition, Spitter calls attention to the opening subject in D and does not hesitate to declare that it is constructed on the pattern of a certain part of the story of Jacob's marriage, the third of the Bible sonatas. His description of the Bach sonata would doubtless have attracted more notice, but for the fact that copies of the Cunow sonatas were extremely rare, they were, we believe, never reprinted since the commencement of the 18th century. The first two have now been published by Messer's Novello and Company. The Cunow implements on Bach seems, however, to have been of short duration, for after these juvenile attempts, as Spitter observes, he never again returns to this branch of music in the whole course of a long artistic career extending over nearly 50 years. The fugue form absorbed nearly the whole attention of that master, and the idea of programmed music remained in abeyance until Beethoven revived it a century later. Footnotes See, however, chapter on the predecessors of Beethoven. End of footnote. Emanuel Bach inherited some of his father's genius, and he may instinctively have felt the utter hopelessness of following directly in his footsteps. J. S. Bach had exhausted the possibilities of the fugue form. It was perhaps fortunate for Emanuel Bach that, while still young, he left his father's house. After residing for a few years at Frankfurt on the Erde, he entered the service of Frederick the Great, and at the court of that monarch he came at any rate directly under Italian influence. An interesting link between Cunow and E. Bach is Matheson, who published at Hamburg in 1713 a sonata dedicated to the one who can best play it. The work itself not being available, the following description of it by J. Feist, Caichilia, volume 25, page 157, may prove interesting. It, i.e. the sonata, consists of only one movement, which, considering its evidently intentional wealth of technique, might be named a ticata. But in form this one movement clearly belongs to the sonata form, and in fact holds a middle place between the tendencies towards sonata form, the term taken in the narrowest sense of form of one single movement, noticeable in Cunow, and the more developed shape which this form has assumed within recent times. We have here three sections. In the opening one, the theme, after the first exposition in the key of G, forms the basis of various passages, and then appears in the key of the dominant, followed again by passages of larger extent and richer contents. Finally in abbreviated form it reappears in the tonic. The second section commences in the parallel key, E minor, with passages which recall those of the first section, and continues with the theme in the same key. Afterwards, theme passages are developed throughout the keys of A minor, C major, G major, D major, and B minor. In the last, in which the theme occurs, there is a full close. As third section, the first is taken de capo. It is evident from a remark made by Matheson in his De Valcomina capitalmeister, which appeared at Hamburg in 1739, that some of the sonatas written during the transition period between Kareli and E bark are lost, or at any rate have not been discovered. Matheson says, during the last year successful attempts have been made to write sonatas for the clavier. Formally they were for violins or instruments of that kind. Still up to now they have not the right form and are capable of being touched, i.e. played, rather than of touching. They aim at the movement of fingers, rather than of hearts. A little later than Matheson, i.e. in 1721, Pierre Giuseppo Sardoni, husband of the famous vocalist Cusoni, published at London, Sonatae per Ilcembalo, dedicated the Duchess of Pembroke. Number one in D minor has three movements, and Alamand, Largo, and Giga presto. They are all short and in two sections, and as a rule the writing is in two parts. Number two in F opens with an allegro of peculiar form. It has four sections, each of which is repeated. The first seven bars modulates to the key of C, closing thus. The second section, also consisting of seven bars, soon modulates to D minor, closing in that key in a manner similar to the first. The third section, 10 bars, consists of modulation and slight development, and closes in A minor. The fourth section, 15 bars, passes by means of broken chords, in imitation of the last bar of the previous section, through various keys, ending in the same fashion as the first section. Only, by way probable of the intensification at the end, there are seven instead of four quaver chords. The section, of course, ends in F. This movement, in the matter of form, offers an interesting link between Cunow and Ibach. The second movement is a minuet with variations. It certainly has a beginning, but seems endless. The third sonata, in A, resembles number one in form, also in grouping of movements. And in addition to the sonata of Matheson, the Se sonatina per violonia cimbalo Giorgio Filippo Telemann, published at Amsterdam in 1721, will give us an approximate idea of the clavier sonata between Cunow and Ibach. Each number, by the way, is headed, title page notwithstanding, a sonata. Number one in A major consists of four movements, adagio allegro, lagro allegro, and all the four are in binary form. The second is naturally the most important. The others are very short and simple. In this allegro, besides the allusion in the dominant key to the theme at the opening of the second section, there is a return to it after modulation in the principal key. Some of the other sonatas are longer, but number one represents, roughly, the other five as to form and contents. Number six in F, by the way, has only three movements, vivace, cantabile, and presto. The sonata per cravi cimbalo novemente composte, published by Giovanni Battista Prasetti in 1739, deserve notice, since they appeared three years before the six sonatas dedicated by Immanuel Bach to Frederick the Great. They are nine in number. In style of writing, order, and character of movement, they bear the stamp of the period in which they were written. Most of the movements in binary form are of the intermediate type, i.e. they have the principal theme in the dominant at the beginning of the exhibition section, and again later on in the principal key. There is considerable variety in the order and number of movements. Number one, for instance, has an adagio, an allegro, and a menuet with variations. Number two in D has four movements, adante, adagio, allegro, giga. The short adagio is in D minor. Number three in G minor, presto and atempo giusto, a dignified fugue. The influence of handle is strong, also that of scarlatti. Bars, such as the following, foreshadow in a curious manner the Alberti bass. A great number of clavier sonatas were written about the time during which Immanuel Bach flourished. His first sonatas appeared in 1742, his last in 1787. An interesting collection of no less than 72 sonatas, 67 by various composers, five anonymous, issued in 12 parts, under the title Uvre Mele, 12 books, each containing six sonatas, was published by Hafner at Würzburg, somewhere between 1760 and 1767. And another collection of symphonies and sonatas, principally by Saxon composers, was published at Leipzig in 1762 under the title Musicalicious Magazzine. We will give the names of some of the chief composers with titles of their works, adding a few other details. It is difficult in some cases to ascertain the year of publication, and it is practically impossible to say when the sonatas were actually composed. Bach, Wilhelm Freidermann, C sonata number one. Footnote, the public did not support the undertaking, and the other five never appeared. End of footnote. D major, Dresden, 1745, sonata in C, published in Little's Mître du Clavescent, and others in D and G autographs, also in F, A and B-flat manuscripts. Bach, Johann Ernst, two sonatas in Uvre Mele, Nicholmann, Christoph, Sey Previ sonate etc. Opus II, Nuremberg, between 1745 and 1756. Hasse, two sonatas in E-flat and B-flat manuscript, on one is the date of 1754. Two sonatas, one in D minor, only one Lento movement, the other in D major, only one Allegro movement in old binary form. These are both in the Leipzig collection named above. Bender, Georg, Sey Sonata, Berlin, 1757, sonatas in G, C minor and G, also seven Sonatinas, the Mischte Klavierstuker, Gotha, 1780. Wagenseil, Georg, Sonata, Uvre Mele, six sonatas for the harpsichord, with accompaniment for a violin. Footnote, the copy in the British Museum has no violin part, which is probably unimportant. End of footnote. Opera prima, A. Hummel, London. Schafrath, Christoph. Footnote, Emanuel Bach's predecessor as clever sinist of the Prussian court. End of footnote. Six sonatas, Opus II, published by Hafner Nuremberg, 1754. Mozart, Leopold, three sonatas, Uvre Mele. Mutel, Johann Gottfried. Three sonatas, etc., Hafner Nuremberg, about 1753, three sonatas, Autograph. Umstad, Josef. Footnote, this name is not in Mendel, Reimann, Grove nor Brown. Fetis, however, mentions him as Josef Umstad. Maitre de Chapelle of Count Brull in Dresden, about the middle of the 18th century, and composer of Parthien and of six sonatas for the clavisan. End of footnote. One sonata, Uvre Mele, sonata consisting only of a minuetto, trio and gig, Leipzig Collection, and the two Italians, Gallupi, sonata per cimbalo, London, and Paradis, Pidomenico, 12 sonata di crave cimbalo, London. Gretti, Belgian composer, 1741 to 1813, wrote six sonata per le clavisan, 1768, to which, unfortunately, we have not been able to gain access. From the two collections the Tatra may be gathered many facts of interest. First, as regards the number and character of movements in a sonata, Emmanuel Bach kept, for the most part, to three, two fast movements divided by a slow one. Footnote, see, however, the early Württemberg sonatas. End of footnote. In the second of his Leipzig collections, 1780, there are two with only two movements, numbers two and three, a few bars connecting the two movements of number three. But among the other composers there are many examples. In some sonatas the first movement is a slow one, in others both movements are quick. In which case the second one is frequently a minuet. Footnote, examples to be found in Roller, Mütl and Johann Christian Bach etc. All twelve sonatas of parodies have only two movements. Of sonatas in three movements, some comment with a slow movement followed by two quick movements. Footnote, Gluck's six sonatas for two violins in a thorough bass published by Jasonson London, probably about the time when Gluck was in London, since he is named on the title page Composer to the Opera, have three movements, slow, fast, fast, the last generally a minuet. End of footnote. In one instance in E Bach's sonatas, the first collection, number two in F, we find two slow movements followed by a quick one, Adante, Laghetto, Allegro Assay. But the greater number had the usual order, Allegro or Allegretto, Adante or Adagio and Allegro or Presto. Thus Hassa, Nickelman, Bender and other composers. Now in E Bach's Wurttemberg sonatas, we found all three movements were in the same key, and there are similar cases in Hassa, Krüger Bach, Johann Ernst Bach etc. But for the most part, the middle slow movement was in some nearly related key. In a sonata commencing in major, in the relative or tonic minor, or minor under dominant. And even, as in a sonata by Adelgaser, in the upper dominant, Johann C. F. Bach, in one instance, selected the minor key of the upper dominant, and there are examples of more remote keys, E Bach collection of 1780, number one. With sonatas commencing in minor, the key selected for the middle movement was generally the relative major of the under dominant, or that of the tonic, sometimes even tonic major. A very extraordinary example of a remote key is to be met with in Bach's collection of 1779, number three. His opening movement is B minor, but his middle one, G minor. Footnote. E Bach did some strange things. One of his sonatas, collection of 1783 number one, has the first movement in G major, second in G minor, and the third in E major. End of footnote. It should be mentioned with regard to sonatas in three movements commencing in a minor key, that the last generally, in the works of this period, remains and ends in minor. In modern sonatas, the major is often found. At any rate before the close, C, Beethoven, Opus 10, number one, etc. Baldissare Gallupi, born in 1706 on the island of Burrano, near Venice, was a pupil of Lotties. Two sets of six sonate per il cimbalo, of his, were published in London. We cannot give the date, but we may state that a sonata of his in manuscript bears the date 1754, whether of copy or composition is uncertain. Anyhow, the year given acts as limit. The variety and the number of the movements of the published sonatas, one has four, some have three, some two, while number two of the first set has only one, points to a period of transition. This alone, apart from the freshness and charm of the music, entitles them to notice. Much of the writing is thin, only two parts, and technically the music far less interesting than the Scarlatti pieces. Some of the phrases and figures and the occasional employment of the Alberti bass tell, however, of the new era soon about to be inaugurated by Haydn. There is one little feature in the first sonata with the first set, which may be mentioned. In the second section of the adagio, a movement in binary form, of that sonata, the theme appears, as usual then, at the beginning of the second section, and later on reappears in the principal key, but it starts on the fourth, instead of the eighth quaver of the bar. There was a great variety in the order of movements, sometimes a slow movement was followed by two quick movements. Footnote, Gallupi number four, first set, adagio, spiritoso, gigalegro, end of footnote, and the third movement was frequently a minuet. The quick movement sometimes came in the middle, Gallupi sonata in B-flat, sometimes at the beginning, E-bach collection 1781 number three, sometimes at the end, E-bach collection 1779 number two, then again sometimes all, but frequently two of the three movements were connected, i.e. one passed to the other without break. So much for sonatas in two or three movements, but among the Ufmele there are no less than 20 which have four movements, some in the old order, slow fast, slow fast, others in a new order, allegro, adante or adagio, minuet, and allegro or presto, footnotes. Sometimes the last movement was a tempo diminueto, a polonaise, or even a fugue, end of footnote. Thus, Wagenseil, footnote, Wagenseil's opus one, sonatas with violin accompaniment, number four in C has allegro, minueto, adagio, and allegro assay. End of footnote, Hoopfeld, J. E. Bach, Hengsberger, and Kael, sometimes as in Seyfert and Goldberg, the minuet came immediately after the allegro, footnote. As this experiment of Seyfert and Goldberg, in connection with Beethoven, is of special interest, we may add that Goldberg has all the movements in the same key, but Seyfert has both the trio of the minuet and the adante in the underdominant. This occurs in two of his sonatas, in both the opening key is major. End of footnote. See Beethoven chapter with regard to position of minuet or scherzo in his sonatas. In a sonata by Schaffrath, the opening allegro is followed by a fugue. Again, in Spitz, Zuck, and Fisher, the following order is found, allegro, adante, allegro, minuet. In Fisher, all the movements are in one key, only the trio of the minuet is in the tonic minor. In Spitz, the andante is in the underdominant, the other movements being in the principal key. In Zuck, the andante is in the minor tonic, and the third movement in the upper dominant. It is well to notice that in none of these four movement sonatas are the movements connected. The same thing is to be observed in Beethoven, with exception perhaps for opus 110. In the Uvmele, there is only one instance of a sonata in five movements by Umstad. It consists of an allegro, adagio in the dominant, fugue allegro in the relative of the dominant, a minuet in the principal key, with trio in relative minor, and finally a presto. By way of contrast, we may recall the two sonatas of hassa in one movement, already mentioned, and also the last of Emmanuel Bach's six sonatas of 1760. The works of many of the composers named in connection with differences in the number and order of movements are forgotten, and in some cases indeed their names are not even thought worthy of a place in musical dictionaries. Yet these variations are of great moment in the history of development. And this for a double reason. First, many of the works must have been known to E. Bach, and yet he seems to have remained, up to the last, faithful to the three movement plan. One or two of his sonatas have only two movements, none however has four. Secondly, the experiment of extending the number to more than three, practically passed unheeded by Dusek, Clementi, Mozart, Footnote. There is however one curious exception. The first of the two sonatas pour les claveçants qui peuvent se jouer avec le complément du violon des idées à matin victoire du France par G. J. Wulfgang Mozart de Salzburg, agé de sept ans. Published in Paris, as Opus I, has four movements, an Allegro in C, with, by the way, an Alberti bass from beginning to end, except at the minor chord with organ points near the close of each section, the place for the extemporized cadenza, and a Dante in F, Alberti bass from beginning to end, a first and second menuet, and an Allegro malto, of course, in C. The brief dedication to Opus I is signed, entre très ombre, très obtient, et très petit servitaire, J. Wulfgang Mozart. End of footnote. Haydn, footnote. There is one exception, a sonata in G major, one of his earliest, C-chapter on Haydn and Mozart. End of footnote. And by all the composers of importance until Beethoven. The last named commenced with sonatas in four movements, but as will be seen in a later chapter, he afterwards became partial to the scheme of three movements. That is now considered, and quite briefly, movements in binary form. Again in this matter, some instructive facts will be gathered from the facts of Bach's contemporaries, as in Scarlatti, so here we find the first of the two sections into which such a movement is divided, ending in one case, footnotes, schyber, a return for the moment to a practice which was once of usual occurrence, end of footnote, in the tonic, but as a rule in the dominant. There is, however, an instance of the close in the under-dominant, Muthl, number two of the sonatas in 1780, and in E-bach in the relative minor of the under-dominant sonatas of 1780, number three finale. In a minor key, the first section closed either in the key of the relative major, or that of the dominant minor. Footnote. Mention has been made in this chapter of a first section in a minor piece of Scarlatti's ending in the major key of the dominant, end of footnote. Much more frequently the former. Now, in proportion as the second part of the first section grew more definite, so also did the approach to it. Everyone knows the pause so frequently to be found in Haydn and Mozart on the dominant of the dominant, i.e. if the key of the piece were C. It is instructive to compare the less formal methods of approaching the new key in E-bach and his contemporary parodies. With them it was generally by means of a half close. It must be remembered that E-bach frequently has a movement quite on Scarlatti's line, i.e. without the definitive second subject. Footnote. In the sonatas of 1781, for instance, the first movement of number two in F has a definite second subject, but that is scarcely the case with the first movement of number three in F minor. End of footnote. Also that the second section in Bach's time was as a rule of secondary importance, but curiously in the finale of a sonata written by Leopold Mozart, father of the great genius, after a half cadence on the dominant of the dominance, tempo and measure change from presto II IV to edante III IV, the latter remaining until the end of the first section, and the same occurs in the recapitulation section. By this means the second theme was made specially prominent. In a sonata of Scarlatti's in D, commencing there is a definite second subject in, by the way, the minor key of the dominant, and it is divided from the first by two bars in common time, a descending scale and a shake on a semi-brave. And then again in number 12 of the Libro de Dothi sonatas modernas para clavicordio, the second subject is divided from the first by two bars of common time. The piece is in Scarlatti's favorite measure III VIII, an ascending scale and a shake. There are clear examples of a second subject besides Ebach in Eberlan, Fleischer, JC Bach and JC F Bach. Yet even in Haydn sonatas, one cannot always speak of a second subject. The further history of the development of the contents of the second half of the first section shows, as it were, a struggle between two ideals. One was kinship, i.e. the endeavor to present the secondary matter in strong relationship to the opening one. The opening notes or bars of a real second subject were, indeed, frequently the same, allowance being made, of course, for difference of key. The other was contrast, i.e. the endeavor to obtain variety. Haydn was more affected by the first, Mozart by the second. In Beethoven the two are happily combined. It is important to notice the closing bars of many first sections of the period of which we are speaking. For instance, in Ebach the first movement of the sonata in each of the collections of 1781 and 1783 has a concluding theme, as in the sonata of Scarlatti, and frequently evolved from the opening theme. Though in the complementary key it cannot count as the second subject, it appears after the complementary key has been ushered in by one cadence, and after having apparently run its course, it has been wound up by another. Then, again, the portion between the cadences just mentioned is, at times, filled with a true theme, so that the concluding one, like the cave of Abraham's field of Machpila, is in reality an appendancy. Sometimes there are several, an enlargement of the exposition section by Beethoven, and still more modern composers, so that it contains sometimes three or even more themes, is practically an exposition section on Scarlatti lines, only on a larger scale. The figure has become a phrase. Mere connected passages have acquired organic meaning. The second section of Scarlatti's movement in binary form contained a few bars of development and modulation. Then a return was made to the opening key of the piece, but never to the opening theme, and in that key a portion more or less great, more or less varied, according to circumstances, was repeated. That return to the opening theme is, as we have already said, the landmark which divides binary from sonata form. In sonatas of the middle of the 18th century, the modulation section, in a major key, ended in various ways. On the dominant chord of the principal key, of the tonic chord of the relative minor, the underdominant, or even on the tonic itself of the principal key. Later on, Haydn and Mozart kept, for the most part, to the dominant chord. Beethoven, on account of the distant and often abrupt modulations of his middle sections, generally marked the approach to the recapitulation by clear and often prolonged dominant harmony. Sometimes, however, the return of the principal theme comes as a surprise. The recapitulation always remained more or less faithful to the exposition. It is interesting to note how little the character and contents of the recapitulation section have been affected in modern times by the growth of the development section. In the matter of balance, the two sections of movement in binary form are more satisfactory than the two sections, two, so far as the outward division is concerned, of modern sonatas. The grain of mustard seed and the parable grew into a tree, and so likewise have the few bars of modulation of early days grown into an important section. However difficult to detect the exact moment at which a movement in sonata form really ceased to be binary, there seems no doubt that the moment has now passed. We have already noted when the change commenced. Chapter 2 of the Piano Forte Sonata by John South Shedlock The slip of ox recording is in the public domain. Johan Kunal This remarkable musician was born April 1660. Footnotes This is the date given by Matheson. In some dictionaries we find 1667. This, however, seems to be an error, for that would only make Kunal 15 years of age when he became candidate for the post of organist at Saint Thomasus. Thetis, who gives the later date 1667, states that in 1684 Kunal became organist at Saint Thomasus, but adds, end of footnote, at Geising, where his grandfather, who, on account of his religious opinions, had been forced to leave Bohemia, had settled. Already in his ninth year, young Kunal showed gifts for science and art. He had a pleasing voice, and first studied under Salomon Krugner, and afterwards under Christian Kittle. Footnotes This Kittle must surely have been father or uncle of Johan Christian Kittle, Vox last pupil. End of footnote. Organist of the Elector at Dresden His next teachers were his brother Andreas Kunal, Alexander Herring. Footnotes Matheson, in his Grundlager einer Erringforte, published at Hamburg in 1740, complains that the names of Salomon Krugner, Christian Kittle, A. Kunal and Herring are not to be found in the musical dictionaries. The first and third have not, even now, a place. End of footnotes. And Vincenzo Albreci In 1680 the plague broke out at Dresden, and Kunal returned to his parents. He then went to Zittow, with a certain Erhard Titius, who had been perfectors at the Kuzh School at Dresden, and received help from the court organist Moritz Edelman, also from the celebrated vice. A motet of Kunals was given at Zittow under his direction. After the death of Titius, Kunal resided for a time in the house of J. J. von Hartig, judge at Zittow. In 1682 he went to Leipzig, where D. Scherzer endeavoured to obtain for him the post of organist at St Thomas's. Kunal, however, was appointed. The latter died in 1684, and was succeeded by Kunal, who in 1700 also became cantor at St Thomas's. He devoted much of his time to jurisprudence. Among other things, he wrote a curious satire entitled De Musicaalische Quaxalba, published in 1700. Their remain in manuscript, Traktatus de Tetricordo, and Introductio ad Composizionum Musicaalum. Kunal had many pupils, we know of two who afterwards became distinguished men. The one was Christoph Graupner, 1683-1760, who in 1710 became capitalmeister at Darmstadt. In 1722, on the death of Kunal, Graupner footnotes, in a letter written by Graupner to Matheson, the former, after mentioning that he studied the clavier, and also composition under Kunal, says, As I offered myself as copyist to Kunal, and wrote some long time for him, such a wish for opportunity enabled me to study much good music, and whenever a doubt arose to learn by word of mouth how this or that was to be understood. End of footnote, who had been prize scholar under him, presented his testimonials, was examined, and seemed likely to become Kantor as his teacher's successor. Meanwhile, however, John Sebastian Bach offered himself as candidate, and as Dr. Pepusch before handle at Cannons in 1710, so did Graupner retire before his great rival. Matheson, in his Ehun Forte, page 410, tells us that, as a composer for the clavier, Graupner may rank as one of the best of his time. He wrote sweets and sonatas for clavier. Johann Friedrich Fasch, 1688-1758 or 9, the second pupil, soon after leaving Leipzig, where he had enjoyed Kunal's instruction from 1701-7, went to Italy, and on his return studied for a short time with Graupner. Fasch then filled various posts until in 1722, the very year indeed of Kunal's death, he became capitalmeister at Anhalt-Zerbst, where he remained until his death. His son, Karl Friedrich Christian, was the founder of the Berlin Sing Academy. In 1756, Emanuel Bach had something to do with Fasch's appointment as clavin assist to Friedrich the Great. The father, who was then 70 years of age and who, like old Sebastian Bach, lived with the fear of God before his eyes, opposed the wish of his son to enter the service for the Infidel King. Emanuel, who wished the younger Fasch to come to Berlin, wrote to the father to say that in the land over which Friedrich the Great ruled, one could believe what one liked, that the king himself was certainly not religious, but on that very account esteemed everyone alike. Bach offered to take young Fasch into his house, and to preserve him as much as possible from temptation. With regard to Graupner, it would be interesting to know whether in any of his sonatas, the autographs of which are we believe in Darmstadt, he worked at all on Kunao's lines. And with regard to Fasch, one would like to know whether he ever conversed with Emanuel Bach about his father, who taught him theory, and about Johann Kunao, his father's renowned teacher. It is from such by-paths of history that one sometimes learns more than from statements showing how son descended from Sire, and how peoples were directly influenced by their teachers. But it is as a musician that we are now concerned with Kunao, and in the first place, as the composer of the earliest known sonata for the Klavier. In 1695, he published at Leipzig, Harbin dies his Instrumentum Zuge Besondern Vergnügen Aufgesetz, that is, seven partitas based upon the way, me, far, or minor third of each mode, together with a sonata in B-flat, for the especial gratification of lovers of this instrument. With respect to this sonata, Kunao remarks in his preface, I have added at the end a sonata in B-flat, which will please amateurs, for why should not such things be attempted on the Klavier as well as on other instruments? In such modest fashion was ushered into the world the first sonata for Klavier, or at any rate, the earliest with which we are acquainted. Footnote, in the Dictionaire du Musique by Bossa, 2nd edition 1705, no mention is made under the article Sonata of one for the Klavier, and yet the above had been published 10 years previously. End of footnote. Matheson, in Das Nu Erhoff Netta Orchester, 1713, speaks about the revival of Klavier sonatas, so that it is not quite certain whether that B-flat sonata was actually the first. Footnote, see also next chapter. End of footnote. During the 17th century, sonatas were written for various instruments, with a figured base for the cembello. It will, of course, be interesting to trace the influences acting upon Kunow. They were of two kinds, the one Italian, the other German. Corelli deserves first mention, and next the Italian organist and composer Vincenzo Albrecci. Footnote, nearly the whole of this composer's works are said to have been destroyed at the bombardment of Dresden in 1760. End of footnote. Capitalmeister to the Elector of Saxony, from 1664 to 1888, and afterwards organist of St. Thomas', Leipzig, who is known to have encouraged Kunow when young, and to have helped him to learn the Italian language. But German influence must also have been strong. A Frohberger, special mention will be made later on. There was one man, Diedrich Becker, who published sonatas for violins and bass already in 1668, and these, if we mistake not, must have been well known to Kunow. Apart from the character of the music, the title of the work Musikalischer Frühlings Fruchter, and the religious style of the preface, remind one of Kunow's Frischer Fruchter, also of his preface to the Bible sonatas. It is curious to find the quaint expression unintelligent birds, first used by Becker, and afterwards by Kunow. Let us describe briefly the above mentioned B-flat sonata. The first movement is in common time, but the composer gave it no heading. It is generally supposed, Becker, Rimbo, Power, to be an Allegro, Moderato might well be added for the stately Handelian-like, the anachronism must be excused, music will scarcely bear a rapid tempo. The movement opens with an eight bar phrase closing on the dominant, then the music, evolved from previous material, passes rapidly through various related keys. After this modulation section there is a cadence to F major, and in this, the dominant key, something like a new subject appears, though it is closely allied to the first. A return is soon made to the principal key, but there is no repetition of the opening theme. After a cadence ending on the tonic, B-flat, and two coda-like bars comes a fugal movement, still in the same key. The vigorous subject, the well-contrasted counterpoint, the interesting episodes, and many attractive details help one to forget the monotony of key so prevalent in the days in which the sonata was written. This, and indeed other fumes at Kunau, show strong foreshadowings of Handel and Bach, of this matter, however, more anon. The counterpoint to the third entry of the subject is evolved from the opening subject of the sonata. The third movement consists of a finer dazio in E-flat, in the key of the subdominant, and in III IV time, then follows a shorter legro in III IV time, of polyphonic character. At the close of the movement, Kunau has written the opening chords of the first movement with the words de capo. A similar indication is to be found in one of the frischer frückter sonatas. This repetition, also the third movement leading directly to the fourth, and the thematic connection mentioned above would seem to show that the composer regarded the various sections of his sonata as parts for whole. In addition, Kunau wrote thirteen sonatas. The frischer Klavier frückter, or Sieben zu natten von gutter Invention und Manier auf dem Klavier zur Spielen, were published in 1696, and later editions in 1710 and 1724. In a quaint preface, the composer tells us that in naming his fresh fruits sonatas, he kept in his mind all kinds of Inventiones and changes. Ferrender Rügen, by which so-called sonatas are superior to mere partitas. Already a century before this preface was written, Praetorius had distinguished between two classes of instrumental music, the one grave, the other gay. The composer has also a word to say about the graces or ornaments, the sugar which sweetens the fruits. In modern reprints of Kunau, the sugar is sometimes forgotten. Footnote, the sonata is given in Le Trésor des Piennistes with the ornaments, yet even there more than a dozen have been omitted. These frischer frückter were followed by six bible sonatas in 1700. The former, both as regards form and contents, are remarkable. Kunau was a man of deeper thought and loftier conception than Emmanuel Bach, but he was fettered by fugal forms. Footnote, the clavier by its very nature tended towards polyphony, the violin towards monody, and besides, Kunau prided himself on the fugal character of his sonatas. End of footnote, and was fighting against them much in the same spirit in which Beethoven, a century later, fought against sonata form in the most general sense of that term. Beethoven was not only the more gifted, but he profited by the experiments of his predecessors, and he enjoyed the advantage of a vastly improved technique. Haydn, Mozart, Clementi, and others were the stepping stones by which he rose to higher things. Kunau's attempts at sonata writing were bold, often rugged, and his experiments in program music extraordinary. The latter was soon forgotten, while the clever, clear form sonatas of Emmanuel Bach served as a gratification to the age in which he lived, and the guides to the composers who followed him. The frischer frückter standing between Corelli and Emmanuel Bach are of interest. The fugal element is still strong, and we find not so much the smooth style of Corelli as the vigorous style of Frohberger and the other composers of North Germany. In character of subject matter and in form there is a decided advance as compared with the B-flat sonata. Kunau still seems rather limited in figures, and therefore repeats himself. Footnotes. Even in the later Bible sonatas, figures from these sonatas recur. End of footnote. Then again, his movements do not always show gradation of interest. Their order and number are indeed perplexing, and not always satisfactory. The second sonata in D, for instance, commences with a final legro, followed first by a short adagio, commencing in the relative minor, and intermixed with short presto passages, and then by a lively movement in six eighths time. These three would form an admirable sonata, yet the composer does not end here. There is still another short adagio and a concluding movement, and in spite of some fine passages these appendages form a decided anticlimax. Similar instances are to be found in the other sonatas. Now for a few words concerning their form. Some of the opening movements, for instance those of numbers one and two, are practically based on fugue form, with which, by the way, sonata form is allied. The first movement of number four in C minor is of interest, both in its resemblances to and differences from modern sonata form. It has four sections. A. 11 bars, beginning and ending in C minor, and containing a characteristic theme. B. 11 bars, beginning in E flat, i.e. relative major of opening key, and closing in G minor, i.e. key of minor dominance. It contains a theme rhythmically allied to the principal theme. This section is repeated. C. 9 and a half bars, opening in C minor and passing two and closing in E flat. It contains imitative passages evolved from the principal theme. D. Exact repetition of first section, only with a close on the major chord. The last movement of the sixth sonata in B flat offers a still more striking resemblance to sonata form. The various sections are better balanced. The middle or development section, with its close stratos, is particularly noticeable, also the recapitulation, which is not literal, as in the above example. The slow movements, occasionally very short, follow no particular plan. The fugal element is always more or less present, but some of the other movements have somewhat of a sweet character. Number six, indeed, opens with a chicona. There is a certain formality about Kunal's music, and for reasons already mentioned, he is occasionally monotonous. But there is an independent spirit running through his sonatas, and a desire to escape from the trammels of tradition which are quite refreshing. And there is a nobility in the style and skill in the workmanship which reminds us of the great Bach. There are indeed resemblances to Bach also to Handel. Scheiber, in his critica musicus, mentions Kunal, in conjunction with Kaiser, Telemann and Handel as one of the greatest composers of the 18th century. The mention of Kunal together with Handel deserves note. The constant discoveries which are being made of Handel's indebtedness to other composers suggests the thought that perhaps Kunal was also laid under contribution. No one, we think, can hear the Bible sonatas without coming to the conclusion that Handel was acquainted with the works of his illustrious predecessor. We will just place side by side three passages from the Bible sonatas of Kunal, with three from a harpsichord suite of Handel. Bible sonata number two, Kunal. Collection one, suite seven, Uvetier, Handel. Bible sonata number six, Kunal. Collection one, suite seven, Pasakai, Handel. Bible sonata number six, Kunal. Collection one, suite seven, Pasakai, Handel. It should be noticed that the three Handel quotations are all from the same suite. We do not mean to infer that the above passages from Handel are plagiarisms, but merely that the Kunal music was, unconsciously, in his mind when he wrote them. C. F. Becker, in his house music in Deutschland, has suggested that these sonatas were known also to Mozart, and begs us to look on this picture, the opening of a Vivace movement in Kunal's sixth sonata, and on this from the Magic Floats. Feist, however, justly observes that though the harmonic basis is the same in both, with Kunal the underpart is the melody, whereas with Mozart is the reverse. He also accuses Becker, and justly, as readers may see by turning to the passage in the Zalba Flota, of not having represented the passage quite honestly. Reminiscence hunters need to be very careful. In these sonatas, as compared with the one in B-flat, the thematic material is of greater importance, and so too in the slow movements the writing is simpler and more melodious. The rapid rate at which they were composed deserves mention. Kunal seems to have had the ready pen of a Schubert. In the preface to these Frischer Fuchter he says, I wrote these seven sonatas straight off, though attending at the same time to my duties. He was jurist-practicus, also organist at St Thomas's, so that each day one was completed. Thus this work, which I commenced on the Monday of one week, was brought to the end by the Monday of the following week. Kunal's second, and so far as we know last, set of sonatas bears the following title. That is, musical representation of some Bible stories in six sonatas to be performed on the clavier for the gratification of amateurs, arranged by Johann Kunal. Kunal was not the originator of program music. In the so-called Queen Elizabeth Virginal book, footnotes, see also the Fitzwilliam Virginal book, edited by J. A. Fuller-Mightland and W. Barkley-Squire, Bright Cop and Hartle, end of footnotes. In the Fitzwilliam library there is a Fantasia by John Monday, who died 1630, in which there is given a description of weather, both fair and foul. Again, Froeberger, who died in 1667, is said to have been able, on the clavier, to describe incidents, ideas and feelings. There is indeed, in existence, a battle piece of his. And then, Buckster Huda, died 1707, wrote a set of seven suites for clavier, in which he is said to have represented the nature and characteristics of the planets, these are unfortunately lost. With Froeberger's music at any rate, Kunal was familiar. In a long preface to these Bible stories, the composer refers to the subject of program music. He reminds us how, from ancient times, musicians have tried to rival the masters of rhetoric, sculpture and painting in terms of their own art. And he expressly refers to program pieces, and even to sonatas by the distinguished Froeberger, footnote, Johann Jacob Froeberger died in 1667, end of footnote, and other excellent composers. The essence of his long, elaborate and at times somewhat confused argument, it must be remembered that he was discussing a very difficult subject, and also that he was the first to write about it is as follows. He believes music capable by itself of producing wonderful effects, but in special cases requiring the assistance of words. Music, he tells us, can express sadness or joy, for that no words are necessary. When, however, some individual, as in his sonatas, is referred to, words become essential, i.e. if one is to distinguish between the lamentation of a sad Hezekiah, a weeping Peter, or a mourning Jeremiah. In other language, words are necessary to render the emotion definite. Kuno gives a quaint illustration of the absolute necessity of words in certain cases, and that illustration is of particular interest in as much as it points to still earlier, and possibly clavier sonatas. I remember, says our author, hearing a few years ago, a sonata composed by a celebrated chur first capitalmeister, to which he had given the title, La Medica. After, so far as I can recall, describing the whines of the patient and of his relations, the running of the latter to the doctor, the pouring forth of their sorrow, there came, finally, a jig, under which stood the words. The patient is progressing favorably, but he has not quite recovered his health. At this some mocked, and were of the opinion that, had it been in his power, the author might well have depicted the joy at a perfect recovery. So far, however, as I could judge, there was good reason for adding words to the music. The sonata commenced in D minor. In the jig, there was constant modulation towards G minor. At the final close in D, the ear was not satisfied, and expected the closing cadence in G. In this wise was the particular recovery expressed in tones, and explained in words. Except for the unmistakable seriousness of the author, this description might be taken as a joke. Just as in one of the Bible sonatas, the deceit of Jacob is expressed by a deceptive cadence, but such extreme examples serve to emphasize the author's declaration that, at times, words are indispensable. Before noticing the sonatas themselves, one more quotation in reference to the same subject must be made from this interesting preface. The humblest scholar, Kunau tells us, knows the rule forbidding consecutive perfect consonances, and speaks of certain sensores, who expose the clumsiness of musical poets, who have refused to be bound by that rule. But, says Kunau in lawyer-like language, The term musical poets, the italics are ours, is a remarkable one. Kunau himself, of course, was one of them. Philip Spitter, in his life of J. S. Bach, develops one short paragraph to the Bible stories, and gives one or two brief quotations from the second, but they certainly deserve a longer notice. The first sonata is entitled The Fight Between David and Goliath. It opens with a bold section intended, as we learn from a superscription, to represent the bravado of Goliath. The giant's characteristic theme, on which the whole section is built, is as follows. Then follows a section in A minor, a chorale representing the prayer to God of the terrified Israelites. While the palpitating quaver accompaniment serves for the terror which sees them at sight of the giant, the harmonies are very striking. This chorale setting should be compared with one by Bach, Spitter's life of Bach, English edition, volume 1, page 216, said to owe its existence to the influence of Georg Bohm, organized at Lüneburg at the commencement of the 18th century. Next comes a little pastoral movement, C major, three-four time, expressive of David's courage and of his confidence in God. Then a tone picture is given of the encounter. The heavy tread of the Philistine is heard in the base, while semi-quaver passages evolved from a figure in the preceding movement evidently portray the spirited youth. One realistic bar scarcely needs the explanation given by Kunow that it is the slinging of the stone which smoked the Philistines in the forehead, and the same may be said of the Goliath Falls in the following bar. This section, limited to 16 bars, is not only an early but a notable specimen of programmed music. It is realistic but not in the least ridiculous. Rapid passages with points of imitation tell us of the flight of the Philistines. A bright movement, still in C, bears the superscription, the joy of the Israelites at their victory. In it there is an allusion to the pastoral movement, maidens then advance with timbrels and instruments of music to meet the victor, and this sonata concludes with a stately minuet, similar in character to the minuet in the overture to handle Samson, the people are dancing and singing for joy. The second sonata presents to us a very different picture. Here we have the melancholy of Saul driven away by means of music. There are a few realistic effects such as the paroxysms of madness of Saul, and the casting of the javelin, but the subject is one which readily lends itself to real musical treatment. The music of the first sonata was principally objective, here however it is principally subjective. In the first part of the work the music depicts, now the sadness, now the rage of the monarch. The opening is worthy of Bach, and presents indeed a foreshadowing of the opening of the 16th prelude of the well-tempered clavier. Spitter mentions the fine fugue, with the subject standing for the melancholy, the counter-subject for the madness of the king, and he justly remarks that these two images of Saul contain the poetic germ of truly musical development. The dimly brooding theme of the fugue brings to one's mind the Kyrie Eleison fugue of Mozart's Requiem, also the theme of the Allegro of Beethoven's Sonata in C minor, Opus 111, notwithstanding the fact that Cunow's is slow and sad, but Beethoven's fast and fiery. Here is the first half of the former. Let not our readers be deceived by the word fugue, the movement is no mere formal scholastic piece of writing, such as one might expect. The preluding of David on his heart, the javelin episode, the paroxysms of rage, give to it rather the character of a free Fantasia. One word with regard to the paroxysm passages. We quoted above a sentence from the preface, respecting the violation of the rule respecting consecutive consonances by certain poetic musicians. Cunow, under this plural mask, was, as we have mentioned, certainly referring to himself, for in another part of the preface, he specifically calls attention to the consecutive fits by which he depicts the disordered mind of King Saul. This first movement, opening in G minor, ends on the chord of G major. We now come to a movement, the flat, entitled Refreshing Melody from David's Heart. The following is part of David's soothing theme. At first it is not heard in its entirety. The sweet singer of Israel plays it, or sometimes only the first two bars, in various keys, and with varied harmonisation, as if watching the king and trying the effect on him of different modulations. Besides in the principal key, it appears several times, and in succession in the relative minor, then in the minor key of the supertonic. The key of the subdominant enters with refreshing effect. After that, a return is made to the principal key, which continues until the close of the movement. Between each delivery of the theme, occur passages similar to the following. As if to denote the restlessness of the king. And as the character of the music, especially towards the close, suggests piano and pianissimo, it would seem as though intended to express the gradual healing power of the music. As a piece of abstract music, the movement appears long, but not if the dramatic situation be kept well in mind. At length, the sounds of the heart cease, and a closing, peaceful and dignified movement in G minor tells of Saul's now tranquil state of mind. The third sonata, entitled The Marriage of Jacob, opens with a delightful jig. Over it stands the superscription, the joy of the family of Laban, at the arrival of their relation Jacob. The beginning of the second section has, as usual, the subject inverted. The music is gay and sparkling. Then comes a section illustrative of Jacob's seven-year service for a wife. The music expresses effort and fatigue, but by way of musical contrasts, sprightly bars intervene from time to time to represent happy moments when the lovers meet. Further on, we have the bridal song of The Companions of Rachel. A short, quaint and delicate movement in minor and in triple time, it commences thus. A short section follows full of rapid semi-craper passages and points of imitation. Such a mode of procedure is frequently adopted by the composer. And then comes a sudden change in the character of the music. No tempo is marked, but evidently it must not be rapid. It is a tone picture of the deception practiced by Laban upon Jacob when he substituted Leah in place of Rachel. At first it is a free recitative. A quotation of a few bars will give a good idea of the extraordinary harmonies and rhythmical figures. And again, the fugue, short and vigorous, has a characteristic theme. A new section expresses Jacob's happiness until he discovers the deceit practiced on him. The exact moment of displeasure is indicated by a superscription. The latter however was sketchily necessary. The notes speak for themselves. For there are reminiscences of the Laban recitative of the fugue theme and also in augmentation of the counter subject. This is indeed an early instance of the employment of representative themes. The composer then naively orders the section descriptive of the wedding festivities to be repeated to illustrate the second marriage of Jacob with the beloved Rachel. The fourth sonata deals with Hezekiah's mortal sickness and recovery. It is shorter than the preceding ones in a simpler structure. It opens with slow, sad music. The prophet of God has summoned the king to prepare for death. His ardent prayer to heaven is naturally expressed by a well-known chorale, supported by most effective polyphonic harmony. After a short thematic working of a figure from the chorale, the latter is submitted to fresh treatment. The movement in six-four time somewhat resembles the old corrente. The sonata concludes with a lively movement in binary form. It is intended to depict the king's joy at his recovery. There are a few bars adagio in each section. Hezekiah recalls the past. This is the only one of the sonatas which, as abstract music, would be satisfactory without any program. Number five is entitled Gideon, the Saviour of Israel. From a musical point of view, it is the least interesting of the set, yet it contains some curious program effects. It will be remembered that a sign from heaven was given to Gideon. The fleece was to be covered with dew, but the ground to remain dry. The next night however, the order of things was reversed. Kunar expresses the latter by giving a theme in contrary motion. This may almost be described as punning in music. The composer however meant it seriously, from the tone of his preface and the narration, with comments, which he has prefixed to each sonata. In addition to the explanatory words over the music itself, it is clear that his aim was to elucidate and intensify the Bible stories by means of his art. He was a man apparently of deep religious belief. The battle picture is a curiosity, but as music of little value. The flight of the Midian Knights is depicted in the following primitive manner. The sixth and last sonata bears the title The Tomb of Jacob. We have at first mournful music. The sons of the patriarch are standing round the deathbed. At length Jacob dies and they ponder over the consequences of the sad event. A quiet expressive theme is then treated fugally and with marked effects. Then comes the journey from Egypt to the land of Canaan. The base progressing in quavers expresses motion. From time to time a curious syncopated semi-quaver figure is heard in the upper part. It may be intended to represent sobbing. The following quotation, including one of these sobbing passages, will give a good idea of the character of this section. A short solemn phrase is headed The Burial of Israel. Then a finely worked out fugal section depicts the great grief of the bystanders. It is in four parts, but in one place the addition of a fifth part and stretto treatment render the feeling of grief more intense. A peaceful closing section in the major key and in triple time expresses the consoled minds of the survivors. From this resume of these Bible sonatas it will be seen that they have nothing in common with the ordinary sonata of the time in which they were written. They were bold attempts at programmed music and, as we have already said, the form is entirely determined by the subject matter. In the old edition of these Bible sonatas, in addition to the preface of which we have made mention, Kuno has related the Bible stories in his own characteristic language. We give a translation of the first two specimens. 1. The combat between David and Goliath. The portrait given in Scripture of great Goliath is something quite uncommon. A monster of nature appears, a giant tall as a tree. 6 Ls will not suffice to measure his length. The high helmet of brass which he wears on his head makes him appear still taller. And the scaly coat of mail, the grieves of brass placed about his legs together with the enormously heavy shield which he carries, also his strong spear tipped with iron, like unto a weaver's beam, sufficiently show that he is of mighty strength. And that all these exceedingly heavy loads do not inconvenience him in the slightest. If the mere description of this man creates fear, how much greater will not the terror of the poor Israelites be when the living image of this their enemy appears before them? For he stands before them in his brazen armour, rivalling the sun in brilliancy, makes with the rustling of his armour a terrible din and snorts and bellows as if he would devour them at one mouthful. His words sound in their ears like dreadful thunder. He holds in contempt his enemies and their equipage. And demands that a hero be sent out to him from their camp. This combat is to show whose shoulders shall bear the yoke of bondage. By this means he imagines that the scepter will soon pass from the Israelites to the Philistines. But a miracle is about to happen. When courage fails all the heroes of Israel, when the giant has only to show himself to cause them to flee, when also the terrible warrior continues according to his custom to pour contempt on the enemy, David, a slim, courageous stripling, a simple shepherd boy, then appears and offers to fight the bully. He is accused of rashness. This however troubles David but little. He adheres firmly to his heroic resolution and seeks audience with King Saul. By God's help he had fought with a bear and a lion who had taken from him a lamb and snatched the prey from the jaws of these cruel beasts and further had slain them. Thus he hoped he would end the struggle with the bear and lion of Philistine. Strongly relying upon God he advances towards the powerful giant with a sling and with some specially selected pebbles. Then the Philistines think to themselves now will the great hero blow away the enemy like a speck of dust or kill him as he would a fly. All at once Goliath becomes terrible in his rage and raves uttering frightful oaths at David, declaring that he is treated as if he were a dog. And David comes to him with shepherd staff and not with weapons worthy of a warrior. David however is fearless. He relies on his God and prophesies to the enemy that though without sword, spear or shield he will cast Goliath to the ground. That he will cut off his head and leave his carcass as food for birds and wild beasts. Hereupon David rushes at the Philistine, wounds him in the forehead with a sharp stone cast from his sling so that Goliath falls to the ground. Before he has time to rise David making use of his opportunity slays him with his own sword and bears away from the field of battle the Hune off head as a trophy of victory. As formerly the Israelites fled before the snorting and stamping of the great Goliath, so now flee the Philistines in consequence of the victory of young David. Thus they give opportunity to the Israelites to pursue them and to fill the roads with the corpses of the slain fugitives. It is easy to imagine how great must have been the joy of the victorious Hebrews. In proof of it we learn how women came forth from the cities of Judea with drum, fiddle and other musical instruments to meet the victors and sang alternately. Saul had slain his thousands but David his ten thousands. Thus the Sonata expresses, one, the stamping and defying of Goliath, two, the terror of the Israelites and their prayer to God at sight of the terrible enemy, three, the courage of David, his desire to humble the pride of the giant and his childlike trust in God, four, the contest of words between David and Goliath and the contest itself in which Goliath is wounded in the forehead by a stone so that he falls to the ground and is slain, five, the flight of the Philistines and how they are pursued by the Israelites and slain by the sword, six, the exultation of the Israelites over their victory, seven, the praise of David sung by the women in alternate choirs, eight and finally the general joy expressing itself in hearty dancing and leaping, two, David curing Saul by means of music. Among the heavy blows dealt to us at times by God for holy reasons are to be counted bodily sicknesses. Of these one can in a real sense say that they cause pain. Hence the invention of that physician of Padua was by no means ridiculous, who thus represented in picture form over his house door the various sicknesses, a man attacked by many dogs and gesticulating wildly through pain. To each of these dogs was given a name and each acted accordingly. The dog gout was biting the man's foot, the dog pleurisy, his loins, stone, his kidneys, colic, his belly and so on. Finally a great sheep dog representing daily fever has thrown the man to the ground. The inventor could easily have known for that he did not require any special experience that sicknesses act upon men in a manner not less gentle. By the exercise of patience, pain can at length be conquered, although the soul so intimately combined with the body must feel it not a little. But when the soul is attacked by sickness, patience always gives way, for bodily cannot in any way be compared with mental suffering. Ena Anguish shows itself in restless gestures. Scripture takes us into a lasaretto of such afflicted persons. Among others we meet with a royal and singular patient, Saul is his name. Of him we read, the spirit of the Lord departed from Saul and he was vexed by an evil spirit from the Lord. Where God is absent and the evil one present, there must dwell all manner of evil. The hateful aspect of this man in his paroxysms of pain can readily be imagined. His eyes turn the wrong way and sparks of fire, so to speak, dart out one after the other. His face is so disfigured that human features can scarce be recognised. His heart casts forth as it were a wild stormy sea of foam. Distrust, jealousy, envy, hatred and fear burst forth from him, especially does the javelin, constantly flying from his hand, show that his heart rages fiercely with anger. To sum up, his soul sickness is so great that the marks of hellish tortures can be clearly traced. At lucid intervals, Lucides intervallies, or quiet hours, the tortured king realises his indescribable evil and he therefore seeks after a man who can cure him. But under such extraordinary circumstances can help be hoped for. From human arts Saul could not expect any salvation, but God sometimes works wonders among men, so he sends to him a noble musician, the excellent David, and puts uncommon power into his harp playing. For when Saul, so to speak, is sweating in the hot bath of sadness, and David plays only one little piece the king is at once refreshed and brought into a state of repose. Thus the sonata represents, one, soul sadness and madness, two, David's refreshing harp playing, and three, tranquility restored to the king's mind. End of chapter two, recording by Jordan Watts, Oxfordshire.