Finally, I'm getting around to writing about Matiegka's Op. 31, No. 1 solo guitar sonata
Wenzaslaus Thomas Matiegka (1773 to 1830)
was a Bohemian guitarist who composed many works for guitar in solo and chamber
settings. He also wrote choral music, about which we know very little. Stanley Yates’ edition of Matiegka’s guitar
sonatas mentions that he studied law, worked for a time as an actuary and
eventually became a kappelmeister who set aside composing for the guitar in
favor of liturgical music.
Matiegka’s style, as Yates also notes, was
on the conservative side. The influence
of Haydn is obvious yet Matiegka also arranged Beethoven works, showing that
however conservative he was by the standards of his time and place the composer
was aware of more leading edge activities.
But having spent some time reading Robert
Gjerndingen’s Music in the Galant Style
it might be helpful to clarify what it might mean to say Matiegka was a
“conservative” composer in a kappelmeister tradition. For that matter, Dana Gooley’s monograph on
improvisation in the Romantic era may be useful, too, for Gooley pointed out
that it was within the context of church music that traditions of improvisation
were retained in a nineteenth century Europe that was increasingly moving away
from improvisation. Which in a lot of ways is moot because there’s no evidence
Matiegka was concertizing. Who, working
in fields related to law, actuarial work or teaching in a church context would
have time to give a lot of guitar recitals anyway?
All that said, admirers of Romantic music
are apt to find Matiegka’s work trivial because his work does so audibly
register as more galant than Romantic with a capital `R’. Yates
points out in his edition that Matiegka’s Op. 31 progressive sonatas are not
concert works but they are worth studying.
I would say they are and I’ve been intending to write about them for
some time.
I want to work from the proposal that we
assess Matiegka’s sonatas as residually galant rather than Romantic in an
effort to not find his work wanting because he’s not a Sor or a Giuliani, let
alone a Beethoven. Nothing against
Beethoven as such but I hope guitarists don’t find Matiegka wanting on the
basis of any residual cult of Beethoven style veneration. Matiegka is too playful and his work too
immersed in the humor of Haydn to ever fit into a Beethovenian cast, which is
why I would never say Matiegka can be thought of as a “Beethoven” of the
guitar. With the introduction out of the
way I want to jump into discussing Matiegka’s Op. 31, Sonata No. 1 in C major,
with reference to Giulio Tampalini’s recording from Brilliant Classics and
Stanley Yates’ edition of Matiegka’s sonatas.
movement 1
Almost nothing could signal more strongly
that Matiegka works with a galant set of gestures than his opening
statement. With the caveat that he
begins on the third scale degree and rises through the fourth to the fifth
scale degrees, Matiegka’s opening gambit is as do-re-mi as possible, an
antecedent phrase answered by a decorous single-line response which leads to a
continuation phrase in which the melody features a ti-do-re transposition of
the opening phrase. The second larger
phrase is a simple dominant transposition with re-mi-fa “answer” to the
four-measure opening phrase, leading to a slide up to the leading tone that
descends to a weak I-V-I statement at measure 7 that rounds off the opening
theme with a simple antecedent-consequent pattern.
At measure 9 (0:11) Yates designates this
new material as the second half of the first theme. That’s possible, although I think this can
also be regarded as the start of the transition. The droning C lower pedal point
withstanding I think at a gestural level this second phrase for Theme 1 or the
start of the transition can be described as a Fenaroli pattern, which is to say
Matiegka has a four-measure phrase where the melody takes up F, E, B, and C at
the start of each measure. This phrase is repeated with some changes but
retains the core linear pattern.
If I liken this opening theme to a ragtime
strain then it’s got the split-in-half structure you often seen in ragtime
where the first half of the theme is somewhat incomplete and is rounded off by
a shorter four-measure gesture that provides a firm cadence and then repeats
before moving on to new material. Guitar
sonatas being what they are, Matiegka’s droning pedal tone on C at the bottom
could trick inattentive listeners into thinking he doesn’t have authentic
cadences. They’re there but guitarists, I trust, know that authentic cadences
that are obscured by droning pedal tones don’t cease to exist because many a
guitarist likes to keep a steady rhythm going.
Yates designates the modulating transition
as starting at measure 16 (0:25 in Tampalini’s recording). Sometimes I think that the transition begins
as early as measure 9 but the argument in favor of measure 16 is that Matiegka
has dropped his droning pedal tone in favor of call and response two-voice
imitative writing. I feel obliged to
point out that this is unusual in transitions for guitar sonatas from this
period. In many early nineteenth century
guitar sonatas I’ve looked at transitions can often be where rhythmic and
melodic activity picks up after an opening theme has been made, Matiegka’s
Grand Sonata No. 1 comes to mind as an example.
So, sure, Yates’ designation of the
transition starting at measure 16 is a pretty well-grounded call.
The transition is a simple imitative
episode with two core phrases (mm 16-19, and mm 20-27). The initial phrase in
the transition moves through the following chords: C, G, D7, and G, these set
up the second, longer phrase in the transition.
The second phrase also runs through C, G, D7 and G, and in this second
phrase the counterpoint is a little busier while retaining the two-voiced
texture. At measure 23 the half cadence of the second phrase gets extended, and
the G of measure 23 gets a deceptive resolution to A7 at measure 24, which
allows for a D variant of the measure 23 melody which leads to a reprise of measure
24 at measure 26 which, in turn, leads to a strong authentic cadence on D major
at measure 27 (0:45). This is, however,
obviously a half cadence that sets up the entrance of the second theme in G
major.
It might be worth pointing out this
obvious point but a modulating transition can have strong cadential gestures
that destabilize the key the music is in or consolidates a new key. Matiegka took a pretty simple path here by
having the half cadence in C major deceptively resolve to an A7 harmony that
let him use melodic sequence that treated D as a new temporary key region to
establish an authentic cadence on D. The strong cadence from A7 to D can’t be
felt as modulating to D because the tonal shift is pretty rapid and because the
resulting authentic cadence of the A7 to D uses a secondary dominant chord to
destabilize C.
As my composition instructor told me long
ago, when you want to modulate from the tonic key to the dominant key you need
to introduce the leading tone of the dominant and the leading tone of the
dominant of the dominant. In this case
Matiegka has done a pretty “textbook” modulation by introducing the leading
tone of the dominant key (F#) at measure 18 (0:28) and then introduces the
leading tone to the dominant of the dominant key (which, to be clear, would be
the A7 to D circle progression) at measure 24 (0:37). Even though the A7 to D shift at measures
24-25 is strong, it’s not strong enough by itself to prepare a D major chord to
function as the dominant of the new key, which is why Matiegka repeats the
phrase for emphasis at measures 26-27 and lands us on a second strong A7-D
cadence by measure 27 at 0:45.
A modulating transition should both
destabilize the old key and create a strong drive to the new key, and while
Matiegka’s approach is pretty simple and pretty “textbook”, but Yates has
pointed out that Matiegka wrote a number of works that are for amateurs and not
meant to be concert works. So we can
think of Matiegka’s Op. 31 as an excellent primer for any guitarist who wants a
fairly smaller-scale introduction to what sonata forms for solo guitar can
sound like. We’ve gotten just three-quarters of a minute into our exposition
and Matiegka has set us up for the entrance of Theme 2 in the dominant key,
which is as “textbook” as you can get for a sonata form.
Theme 2, it turns out, opens with the same
idea as Theme 1, which shows just how indebted to Haydn Matiegka was. Haydn and Clementi were both known to write
what some scholars have called “monothematic” sonata forms. Hepokoski and Darcy reject this older label
in their work Elements of Sonata Theory
and favor saying that Theme 1 should be thought of as P and that a “monothematic”
sonata will have a secondary theme (S) in which S is P-derived. That sure seems like a fancy way of saying
that Theme 1 and Theme 2 are derived from the same core idea to me and I’m not
sure Hepokoski and Darcy need to be so dogged about this particular point.
When Theme 2 shows up at measure 28 (0:44)
it sounds pretty much like Theme 1 and pretty much is Theme 1 until Matiegka
gets to place that would correspond with the second half of Theme 1 (measure 35,
0:59). Once he gets to the half cadence
he extends the dominant pedal moment into a marching theme within a theme. The melody is now active in the bass strings
and marches along through measure 40 (1:08) that outlines an E7, A7, D, G
phrase that couldn’t be more “guitaristic” and would fit in pretty well in a
ragtime strain I might add. The dominant pedal passage is still getting
prolonged at easure 42 (1:06) and doesn’t resolve to a firm authentic cadence
(kind of) until measure 45 (1:13).
Firm, but brief, because this Theme 2 is
where Matiegka deploys phrase prolongation in his Theme 2 knowing we’ll
remember at least generally what he did in Theme 1. Think of it as being like a singer songwriter
who played you a verse and chorus and then when coming back to the verse and
chorus the second time around decides to sit on the pre-chorus passage for a
long, long time to milk the moment. That’s what Matiegka is doing here and
since his Theme 2 is obviously based on the same opening material as Theme the
places where he can shake things up and surprise don’t come from how he starts
but how and where he ends.
So Matiegka has by measure 45 gotten us to
what would correspond to the second half of Theme 1, and is in the second part
of his Theme 2 space. It’s here at
measure 45 (1:15) he runs with a leap from the root to the sixth followed by
descending scale runs that he used back in measure 6 and he, well, runs with
this idea for four measures. Then at
measure 50 (1:24ish) he brings back the quasi-rag E7-A7-D-G chain phrase and
extends it. The new extended phrase goes
through the following chords: E7, A7, D, G, C, B7, Em. He’s landed us with an
authentic cadence in the submediant of the dominant key, still firmly arriving
either at harmonically and melodically strong but rhythmically cut-off cadences
in the “right” key or strong resolutions to a “wrong” key to keep extending Theme
2.
At measure 54 (01:24) he brings back the
marching material that extended and prolonged his half-cadence in the first
part of Theme 2, this time in G major, his new tonic key. What he had used earlier to postpone and delay
his intra-thematic resolution to the tonic is now used to reinforce the tonic
in a new set of closing phrases. The
move from E minor to G major isn’t a very strong move in terms of functional
harmony but Matiegka can get away with this at a syntactic level because he’s
using an earlier idea that was used to push us “away” from the tonic to affirm
the tonic and build momentum toward his completion of the exposition.
This new phrase starting at mm 54 has a
high G ringing out in marching rhythms as the bass strings take up a kind of
rising “chorale” idea in sixths that moves through the following scale degrees:
1, 2, 2# ,3, 4, and closing on 4# (C# fully diminished in first inversion).
Once again Matiegka is not going to just “end” the second theme. So the fully diminished seventh chord is at
measure 56 and at 1:34 in the exposition.
Now so far Theme 2 confirms a generalization
that shows up in discussions about second themes in sonata forms. Theorists
have pointed out that Theme 2 themes are often more loosely organized than
Theme 1 ideas. Another way to put it is that given their place in the syntactic
script of an exposition a second or third theme in a sonata is supposed to
drive toward its harmonic/melodic/rhythmic resolution moment firmly enough that
its end can simultaneously become the beginning of the next moment in the
work.
In this case the exposition needs to end
on a G strong enough to be a strong resolving cadence in G major that will do
two things: 1) comparably resolve to C major when Theme 2 shows up in the tonic
key in the recapitulation and 2) be strong enough in establishing an authentic
cadence to achieve for a return to the tonic key of C major what was
accomplished by the A7-D phrases in the modulating transition. The aim is to see to it that these modules of
music are mutually reinforcing and capable of being both recursive (going back
to themselves) and discursive (able to move on to a new idea in the development
at the same time.
With that “grand pause” to explain why
Matiegka seems so set on avoiding and delaying a strong resolution for any of
his phrases in Theme 2 we get back to Theme 2.
The fully diminished seventh chord is met with a half measure of silence
and in the second half of measure 57 he sets us up with a second inversion
tonic chord that dances up arpeggios of the tonic for Theme 2 and the second
inversion tonic chord is going to go exactly where we’re told it should go,
toward setting up a V-I progression that finally wraps up Theme 2 with a
perfect authentic cadence at measures 60-61 (1:40). Yates notes in his edition there’s a little
Coda from mm 61-65. This Coda consists pretty simply of two very strong V-I
cadences that make sure we’ve ended soundly on G major, the tonic key of Theme
2 and … we get a complete repeat of the exposition.
A couple of things stand out about this
exposition. The first is how utterly modular it is, which I’m fine with because
I like eighteenth century music and I also enjoy a fair amount of popular
music, too. It’s easier to talk about
potential crossover points between a Matiegka solo guitar sonata and a pop song
because guitarists tend to work at smaller scales than pianists and symphonists
do. It’s easier to, for instance, say
that Theme 2 gets a lot of mileage on delaying the cadential arrival points
that were so simply and firmly given us by Matiegka in Theme 1 in the first
half minute of the exposition.
Now for those who have played with the
idea that a pop song could have a verse-chorus exposition there’s … sort of … a
case to be made that Matiegka gives us something like that here but with an
important modification. If we say that
Matiegka has written a functionally monothematic sonata form and we also want
to compare this sonata to the structural patterns of a pop song then we could
say that Theme 1 is a very simple verse and chorus binary form. The transition
is the bridge between Theme 1 and the appearance of Theme 2 in the dominant
key. Theme 2, in this case, can be
thought of as a return of Theme 1 with a couple of over-the-top Paul McCartney
style prolongations of cadential arrival points. Maybe Matiegka is amazed at the way we love
him all the time or something and just won’t bring himself to resolve Theme 2
until he’s milked every side harmony of the moments he wants to get from
them.
We can hear how Theme 2 is fundamentally a
continuation of the key idea from Theme 1 but Matiegka extends the “flow” of
his Theme 2 by having it spill beyond the bounds of the phrase-lengths and
module sizes he set up in Theme 1 at the start of his exposition.
If we want to think of this Op. 31, No. 1
sonata as having an exposition explicable more in terms of ragtime then Theme 1
has a sixteen measure opening strain in C major and the transition uses call
and response counterpoint to lead to Theme 2 and that turns out to be a
biggie-sized derivation of Theme 1 in which the second theme module, once we throw
in all the extended half cadences and evaded cadences and interruptions spans
from measures 28-61! Theme 2 is roughly twice as long as Theme 1.
I have to underline this point, Matiegka’s
entire exposition is a mere 1:46. With a full repeat of the exposition the run
time in Giulio Tampalini’s performance has the second statement of the
exposition reaching its final cadence at 3:27.
The exposition has been played in its entirety in the time it would take
to hear an entire pop song. Yes, the
exposition is just a part of the sonata form as a whole but if I take as given
the claim that early nineteenth-century guitarists tended to have more
conservative styles than their pianist peers we’ve got a case from such a claim
to assess early guitar sonatas more as galant than Romantic music.
Now after the exposition has been played
twice we get to the development section.at measure 66 (3:28 in the Tampalini
performance). Had Tampalini omitted the
repeat of the exposition as can happen in many a performance, it might be
harder to hear the ways in which Theme 2 is built around delaying or extending
cadential arrival points in Theme 2 in contrast to Theme 1. Unless you’re a
guitarist reading along with the score or someone so steeped in late eighteenth
and early nineteenth century musical styles you could hear the first time
through what Matiegka was doing there’s probably no chance in the first one and
a half minutes of a performance that you would have picked up much of the stuff
I have just written about, unless Matiegka is your speciality and then I don’t
need to explain this stuff because you have the scores and probably even saw engraving
plates.
In order to get a sense that there’s any
development we needed to hear that exposition twice and we’ll get to hear the
development twice, which I’ll get to at length.
The development begins with a sequential
extension of the riff in the coda, again at measure 66 (3:28). Matiegka simply
sequences the little serpentine riff from the coda up a whole step. The effect is kicking the key from G major
into … well … it seems that we’re in A minor at the start of the development to
go by the imperfect authentic cadence at mm 67-68 and then there’s a B7 to E
cadence in the next two measures. By
measures 71-72 we are, indeed, firmly sure we’re in A minor. Although in
larger-scale sonata forms the development section is where a composer tries out
a variety of keys in such a small-scale sonata as this we discover Matiegka
moves to A minor and basically stays there. We’ll find out why before too long
but the “why” involves a trick I’ll get to when the time is right.
As developments go this is pretty simple
stuff—the composer sequences an idea from the coda of the exposition a few
times, acts like he’s going to set something up for moving into new directions (cycling
through chords C to F, F to C, E minor to B7, B7 to E) but at measure 85 (3:49)
all of that has just gotten us back to a half cadence on E7 that can only
seemingly take us to A minor, the key the development has basically been in
this whole time. With an explosion of
scurrying rising arpeggios that float above a droning, pulsing E pedal point on
the open sixth, Matiegka hammers away on a half-cadence passage that spans mm
85-98. He’s really building up to a big climactic moment that’s going to happen
in either A minor or A major so what is it?
At measure 104 (4:16) we find out what all
this set up was for, the appearance of Theme 1 in A major. There are a few gentle decorations in the
first phrase but we’re clearly running with Theme 1. The thing is, we have a question. Is this still development? It could be, but we’ll discover that this is
actually the start of the recapitulation. The problem is that if this were a “textbook”
sonata Matiegka should have come back to C major and not A major. What’s he going to do next?
The second phrase of Theme 1 is presented
in A minor at mm 108-115 and it’s here that Matiegka’s debt to Haydn can be
heard. This is the part of Theme 1 in which there’s a mid-course correction on
the tonality of Theme 1 as if to say “Sorry, my bad. I know I was supposed to
get us to C major but I started the recapitulation in the wrong key!” In this second phrase Matiegka has his melody
and harmony move through A minor to E7 and back to A minor, and his scale-run
moves from F down through A before he introduces the chordal motto of Theme 1
moving through G-C-G with 2nd, 1st and 1st
inversion forms of those chords respectively.
He’s pivoting mid-phrase back into C major. By mm 112-115 he’s finally
brought back the melody and voicings that appeared in Theme 1 in its exposition
form. He’s course-correcting the key so
that by the second half of Theme 1 he’ll finally be back in C major, which shows
up on cue at measure 115 (4:39)
The second half of Theme 1 arriving in C
major ensures that the recapitulation is finally doing what it’s expected to
do. In the jargon Hepokoski and Darcy use in Elements of Sonata Theory, what
Matiegka has done might be considered a second-level deformation, that is to
say that he’s started his recapitulation in a deliberately “wrong” key and
continued to develop/mutate Theme 1 within what H&D would call the
recapitulation zone. Choosing to
recapitulate part of Theme 1 in a wrong key was something Matiegka did in Grand
Sonata I, movement 1.
Theme 1 rounds off as it appeared in the
exposition and at measure 133 the transition begins (4:52). What happens he is another “not textbook”
moment. Matiegka truncates the imitative
writing in the transition and introduces the marching sub-theme from Theme 2 at
measure 131 (5:04). The initial Theme 1 derived phrase that started Theme 2 in
the exposition has been jettisoned. It’s easy to hear why since Matiegka used
that chordal motto no less than four times in the repeating exposition and also
had the idea come back in Theme 1 where the motto appeared in a sequence of
modal mutations.
By way of synechdoche, Matiegka drops
material from Theme 2 that was replicated earlier in the sonata movement within
Theme 1. This is paradoxically “textbook”
inasmuch as Charles Rosen and others have pointed out that in the
recapitulation it’s more critical for materials that were not in the tonic key
to be presented in the tonic key in eighteenth century style sonata forms. Matiegka’s not doing what a nineteenth century
theorist would have said he “should have” done means that he was following the
norms of eighteenth century compositional norms he picked up in his formative
years. The parts that really identify
Theme 2 as Theme 2 get brought back in the recapitulation, even if they are
substantially pared down. We’ll hear why when the second repetition of the
development-recapitulation half of the sonata form comes up.
Now at measure 131 (5:10) we hear a
reprise of the chain of fourths progression as the bare chords moving beneath the
marching rhythm on the high E string on the note G, the chords being C#
diminished, D, G# diminished, and A minor. The chords aren’t exactly the same
but every guitarist has discovered there are passages that work well in a key
like G major that are too awkward to transpose into C major without changes
What’s more most scholars on sonata as a form point out that recomposing
thematic materials is common in late Classic or early Romantic styles, not
least in works by Haydn, who we have established Matiegka was a conspicuous
influence on Matiegka’s approach in earlier writings. Each part of Theme 2 that appeared in the
exposition makes a quick appearance but is over quickly in the
recapitulation. The closing half of
Theme 2 arrives and moves predictably enough to the Coda, which is extended,
reaching it’s perfect authentic cadence at measure 160 (5:46).
Then we’re immediately back in the
development (0:48). Matiegka has called
for a full repeat of the development and recapitulation, which is one of the
key indicators of how conservative his approach to sonata form was in the early
1800s. By this time plenty of composers
who wrote for the piano, wrote symphonies, and wrote quartets might have
repeating expositions but a repetition of the complete development and
recapitulation was pretty rare by the nineteenth century.
I might be alone here but this sonata
movement is really funny. I’ve soaked up
so much of Haydn’s music that I hear his kind of humor in Matiegka’s
deliberately wrong-key recapitulation of Theme 1 in A major that has to get
fixed, as it were, on the fly so that Matiegka’s shoving the music of Theme 1
through A major and A minor and setting up cadence points so that he can get
the second half of Theme 1 in the right key by the time the non-modulating
transition happens. If you soak up
enough eighteenth century music to know that audiences and performers would
have expected a “real” recapitulation that started in C major and stayed there
then Matiegka’s joke is easier to understand even if you don’t personally think
it’s funny.
In a similar way the way Matiegka
jettisons the Theme 1 materials from Theme 2 in the recapitulation is something
to keep in mind. It’s the kind of
musical joke only musicians may fully appreciate but it’s something to
understand if you ever take up this piece to perform it. Matiegka paid tribute to Haydn in so many
ways in his music that you can see that for yourself if you study the
scores of both composers. If, however, you haven’t, I want to make sure
I spell out the ways I hear and see in Matiegka’s work that he took Haydn as
one of his key inspirations.
What Matiegka has in common with Anton
Diabelli is a practice of dropping ideas in recapitulations that got a lot of
play time in the exposition or development.
It can make analyzing his sonata forms tricky if you don’t know this
about him, especially if you go into
his sonata movements expecting them to be “textbook”. If you know in advance
how much he was influenced by Haydn’s flexible and overtly jokey style you won’t
be thrown off so much when he does something like what he did in the
development of this opening sonata movement and build a great big dominant
pedal point of the sort that “should” be in a sonata development only to have
it be on the wrong dominant that forces the recapitulation to start in the
wrong key.
The polarity between the “should” key of C
major and the “I like this better” key of A minor/A major will be a thread
running throughout this little sonata.
movement 2
Yet another way in which Matiegka reveals
his debt to Haydn is placing a brisk and charming menuetto after his defiantly
jocular sonata form. Haydn scholars have
pointed out that when Haydn did something unusually complex or weird in his
opening sonata he tended to place the menuet after the sonata rather than the
more usual slow variation or slow sonata movement.
The menuet part of the menuetto (a.k.a the
A of the larger ABA structure that these movements tend to have) elapses
quickly in 46 seconds even with all the structurally observed repeats. The opening C major theme is simple and clear
in terms of its substance. The
intervening Trio begins in a gentle C major at 0:47 and seems at first like it
will stay in that key but by 0:55 we discover the music has mutated into an
authentic cadence ending in the relative
minor key. As with the opening sonata
movement, this menuetto has a middle theme that seems like it should stay in
the initial key but sets up a cadence in the submediant key. This phrase, as so
often with Trio sections, repeats.
The continuation phrase in the Trio
reprises the chain of fourths idea from the sonata movement and gently waltzes
through A(7) to D to G(7) to C before nestling into an E dominant 7 pedal
passage that seems sure to keep the music in A minor but …
Nope, of course, not. At 1:20 we hear the
gentle C major chord that started the Trio theme. Matiegka is still running
with the esoteric musical gag in which he’ll build up to half cadences in the
wrong key and then all of a sudden kick the tonality back to where it should
be; the Trio theme resumes in C major after the E7 pedal passage as if the
pedal point had been on G7 rather than E7 all the while.
At 1:31 the secondary part of the Trio is
played with embellishing arpeggios. At 1:41 the return to C major passage of
the Trio is taken up but in the lower strings and as a somewhat free inversion.
This might be a point to mention that it’s here that Matiegka seems to reflect
a pattern in early nineteenth and later nineteenth century composing to write
out variations on what in earlier approaches to menuets would have had more
consistently literal repetitions of the themes.
Another quirky trait is his decision to
repeat the entirety of the secondary phrase of the Trio even though he’s
written out variations within the Trio, a kind of double the doubling move that
makes the Trio significantly larger than the Menuetto that surrounds it.
movement 3
As with all six of the Op. 31
sonatas, No. 1 in C major is a three-movement work. The third and final
movement is a short Rondo. This title
seems like a misnomer because normally a rondo is defined as having five, seven
or nine parts and the archetypal five-part rondo maps out as ABACA. This is more of a semi-grand ternary form
with a theme in C major, a middle theme in A minor, and a return of the C major
theme and a coda. I suppose that could
be mapped out as ABAC but because the refrain theme doesn’t come back at the
end this “Rondo” isn’t really a Rondo, but as I was writing earlier there’s all
kinds of little details in this sonata that are musical jokes.
As noted above, the themes for this finale are in C major and A minor. There’s a conspicuous reprise of the secondary phrase from the Trio theme in the previous movement in the middle of this finale in the A minor theme, which is a natural place for it show up. That’s a post-Beethoven technique, to generalize, that Matiegka picked up, bringing back thematic ideas that had appeared earlier in a cyclical work.
Of course this is such a
small-scale sonata for solo guitar nobody who plays Beethoven or teaches
Beethoven would be likely to think of this as reflecting anything about
Beethoven. Matiegka was known to have
arranged some Beethoven for chamber ensemble including the guitar, though, and
was enough a contemporary of Schubert for the latter composer to recompose one
of Matiegka’s trios into a quartet—the Bohemian guitarist composer who worked
as a kappelmeister managed to be mostly conservative but also reflected his
times even if by the ideologies and aesthetics of his era he was perhaps “behind
the times”.
Now obvious I spent far more time
discussing his opening sonata form than I’ve spent talking about his Menuetto
or Rondo and I’ve done so with Matiegka’s work because while his work is typically
described as “conservative” I think Op. 31, No. 1 in C major is a good example
of how even a “conservative” solo guitar sonata was not following “the rules”
that were laid down by nineteenth century pedagogy regarding what a sonata form
was expected to be. Being “old school”
may have meant Matiegka didn’t feel obliged to follow “the rules” that were
getting laid down by nineteenth century theories because they had not been
formalized. How can you break the rules
if the rules haven’t actually been codified yet?
There were conventions and norms,
of course, and many of those were established by Haydn but, again, go look
through hundreds of Haydn sonata movements and you’ll find he didn’t feel
particularly obliged to follow “the rules”, either. A good deal of the Beethoven
mystique that had him as the rule-breaker and envelope-expander supreme was, to
put it harshly, the Romantic era hype machine. Beethoven was an ambitious composer but you
can hear his Grosse Fugue as cast in a very straightforward five-part rondo at
its most macro macro-structural level, and a five-part rondo isn’t
rule-breaking at all, it’s the way Beethoven saw fit to organize a colossally
complex fugue. When you can hear Beethoven’s later string quartets with this in
mind his most apparently revolutionary end for a string quartet in his day was,
once you heard past the polyphonic surface to is underlying structural units,
couldn’t have been a more straightforward five-part rondo of the kind that was
often used to end string quartets in the eighteenth century.
Of course, having said that, it
can take a fairly advanced level of structural listening to work out that the
great big fugue can nonetheless be appreciated as having such a simple ABA’CA”
structure. Ideally that’s the kind of
thing people might be expected to learn in music schools or through study of
forms or just listening to music for enough decades that the structural and
syntactic simplicity beneath the surface complexity becomes easier to hear.
Every composer who works at that
level of complexity has to start at a far simpler level and that far simpler
level is where Matiegka is working in the Op. 31 sonatas for guitar. They aren’t “worse” or “better” than
Beethoven for being simpler, that all depends on what your aesthetic and
ideological concerns about what music ought to be may happen to be. I happen to enjoy Beethoven’s
Op. 111 piano sonata and also Matiegka’s Op. 31, No.1. What is more I would advise musicians and
music theorists that there’s something fun to be heard and learned in both of
the sonatas, whether the big and ambitious Beethoven piano sonata or the
playful and light-hearted Matiegka solo guitar sonata.
Matiegka, even among those who even know who he is, can tend to be thought of as "okay" or as a trivial composer. In terms of Matiegka's melodic writing I frankly enjoy him more than Sor and I admit it's because I'm such a big fan of Haydn that Matiegka's Haydn-by-guitar vibe is more fun for me than Sor's "Beethoven of the Guitar" biggie-size approach in Op. 22 or Op. 25. It's not that I don't like Sor, even, it's that I'm so much a Haydn fan that guitarists who hew more to Haydn's playfulness are more up my ally than those who aspired to Beethovenian sublime. As Richard Taruskin has argued in Cursed Questions, Haydn has his own musical sublime for people who are willing to hear it but that's another topic for another time.
POSTSCRIPT 7-5-2020
There's a more general review of Tampalini's Matiegka box set released through Brilliant Classics at the local Seattle Classic Guitar Society newsletter, published in the 2019 May/June newsletter
https://www.seattleguitar.org/soundings603.pdf
POSTSCRIPT 7-5-2020
There's a more general review of Tampalini's Matiegka box set released through Brilliant Classics at the local Seattle Classic Guitar Society newsletter, published in the 2019 May/June newsletter
https://www.seattleguitar.org/soundings603.pdf
POSTSCRIPT 9-5-2021
Here it is more than a year later and thanks to IMSLP I have managed to get ahold of a public domain PDF form of the sonatas 1, 2, 5 and 6 and that means ... an annotated analysis in-score of Matiegka's Op. 31, No. 1 sonata I wasn't able to provide when I originally wrote the strictly text analysis I published.





2 comments:
I've been a big fan of your work and a big fan of Matiegka but I couldn't find his work op. 31 free nowhere.
over the last few years there haven't been free versions of Op. 31 since Stanley Yates' edition of Matiegka's sonatas got published. I picked it up a few years ago and it's worth getting for the Op. 31 progressive sonatas. IMSLP has some of the larger scale works available again, at least, but even those were down for a while. The paperback edition is in the zone of $30 USD. I'm actually not entirely sure if there have ever been free versions of Op. 31 like there have been for Grand Sonatas I & II.
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