Next chronologically are the three fugues of Op. 20,1Haydn’s first departure from his practice up to this point of concluding with a relatively lightweight sonata
form, some other two-reprise design, or a da capo scheme. The decision to side-line those choices in favor of learned polyphony may be linked to the generally high ambitions that mark this opus, as well as to a special concern for cyclic unity and coherence. A well-turned fugue, aspiring to sublime complexity and persua-sive rhetoric, is ideally suited to the role of culmination: a natural apex of tech-nical stringency, linear density, and ensemble energy, and hence a long-range goal toward which the action of previous movements had been striving. Cyclic unity and integration were ideas within Haydn’s purview, especially at this point in his career, and his Op. 20 fugues may be heard as manifestations of the tendency.
Learned style, with fugue as its capstone, was an available ingredient for Vi-ennese composers of Haydn’s day, and Haydn himself had practiced fugal tech-nique in his baryton trios of the previous decade; his Symphonies Nos. 3 (by 1762) and 40 (1763) have fugal finales;2and there are instances in his previous quartets of canonic imitation (in the trio of Op. 17/1/ii and in Op. 17/4/i, for ex-ample) as well as points of free imitation with parts entering one by one. From this perspective, the full-scale fugues in Op. 20 may be seen not as stylistic aber-rations but as manifestations of a viable, current technique.
Certainly the Op. 20 fugues stand out as superlative examples of their kind, enjoying the medium’s capacity for rhythmic precision and melodic agility while demonstrating fugal ideals of linear independence, unity, and continuity. It is easy to imagine that these examples of exalted craftsmanship were welcomed and appreciated by chamber-music connoisseurs. The idiom was one with which they would have been familiar; the quartet, with its arrangement of solo parts to match soprano, alto, tenor, and bass voice ranges, made a suitable foundation for fugal discourse; and in the absence of any explicit formal prototype, the finales em-bodied fresh solutions to problems of large-scale design. Moreover, to the extent that they were actually heard as climactic events within their respective cycles, they invited contemplation of large-scale coherence as an issue of structural and aesthetic importance.
Haydn attached a label to each of the fugues to specify the number of sub-jects it encompassed: two in Op. 20/5, three in Op. 20/6, four in Op. 20/2. The dis-tinguishing tags notwithstanding, all three may be described technically as double fugues: each begins with a principal subject accompanied by a countersubject that figures prominently, if not consistently, in subsequent statements. The addi-tional specified countersubjects in Op. 20/6 and 2 play lesser roles, but they none-theless contribute to the prodigious rhythmic and melodic diversity—and the considerable polyphonic complexity—that characterize both these movements.3 Other resemblances confirm impressions of family relationship. The fugues’
principal subjects all start on the fifth scale degree, and each has a tonal answer that begins on the tonic note and moves to the dominant. In each case, the initial exposition embraces five entries: two pairs of subject-answer units, giving each ensemble member a chance to state the principal subject, plus an additional entry
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(S principal subject, A tonal answer, the superscript “i” denotes inversion. Not all entries identified in the diagrams are complete, although all are substantial representatives of either subject or answer.)
in tonic, restored to the voice by which it was stated at the outset (see fig. 7.1).
The next phase comprises an extended middle section in which the tonal focus changes repeatedly in the course of episodic passages and further statements of the subject and countersubjects. A final portion dwells on tonic; and, to counter the harmonic stability that now predominates, activity increases in other ele-ments, variously including surface rhythm, textural density, and notated or im-plied dynamics. A concentration of special devices late in the movement (such as stretto, pedal point, inversion, and canon) helps build to a rhetorical high point and resounding conclusion, especially in Op. 20/5 and 6.
Curiously, all three fugues are inscribed at their head with the marking sempre sotto voce, perhaps cautioning performers to honor the learned atmosphere with a measure of emotional distance and a rarefied, uniform balance among parts.
But the pent-up energy thus entailed would seem to call for eventual release, es-pecially given the imperative of cyclic culmination; and Haydn does in fact sig-nal the ultimate change to a fuller volume—with the help of explicit dynamic markings in Op. 20/5 and 2, and by implication in Op. 20/6, where vigorous uni-sons and double-stopped chords in the closing measures clearly demand at least a forte rendition.
A closer view of the fugues reveals points of individuality and stylistic dif-ferentiation. In the F minor fugue, an alla breve time signature and archetypal subject in long note values stand out as markers for the stile antico, and elements suggestive of strict style are cultivated throughout: a preference for conjunct melodic lines, apart from the featured leaps of its “pathotype” theme,4relatively long note values, and copious display of learned techniques, including canon, in-version, and stretto at successively shorter time intervals. Distinctly more mod-ern in character and technique, the A major fugue has a subject that mixes a va-riety of shorter note values and is further enlivened by short rests, wide leaps, and sequential repetition, all of which provide the basis for episodes based on subject material, sometimes involving the stretto-like effect of entries in close imitation (for example, mm. 25–26 and 35–37). The most complex of the three stylisti-cally is the C major fugue of Op. 20/2, whose dancing subject in 68time, enriched by a chromatic passing tone, joins a multiplicity of countersubjects as a basis for continuously changing relationships among parts, variously involving inversion, chromatically inflected sequence, canon, and dialogue.
For the finale of Op. 50/4 in Fminor, a special case in several respects, learned style provides a means to crown a serious, disturbing quartet in a difficult minor key.5As in Op. 20, the very presence of fugue signifies cyclic culmination, a qual-ity enhanced here by the device of a principal subject that summarizes and re-assembles motivic elements from previous movements.6At the same time, how-ever, cohesion is tempered by stylistic disparities within the fugue itself—most notably its lightly tripping gait in a fast 68time, a quality that belies the sobriety of learned style and the dark connotations of the subject’s “pathotype” profile,7
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although to some extent the contradictions may resonate with the rhetorical and affective complexity of the work as a whole.
Despite all similarities to the fugues of Op. 20, and despite the special inten-sity of its climax—which features a richly scored outburst of Neapolitan harmony (m. 70), simultaneously with a climb to the movement’s highest pitch, g3—the Op. 50/4 fugue marks a retreat from the technical ambitions of Op. 20. Shorter than the earlier fugues, and designed to permit fewer entries of the principal sub-ject, it makes proud display of fugal technique at the outset but then relaxes the commitment to equal-voice polyphony as the movement progresses (see fig. 7.2).
The subject as an intact thematic unit is abandoned relatively early. In a deci-sive move placed just after the midpoint (m. 45), a pregnant silence prepares the way for a pattern of stretto entries (mm. 46–49), which eloquently confirms the restoration of tonic while revisiting the initial order of entering parts (lowest to highest). Polyphonic activity continues for a dozen measures more, the last four over a pedal point; but now the coalescing of all parts in unison (mm. 62–64) sig-nifies the near-surrender to rhythmically synchronized, vertically oriented textures.
Paradoxically, the last movement of Op. 50/4 may be regarded both as an af-firmation of learned polyphony and a belated acknowledgment of its limitations.
The Op. 20 fugues were exemplary by comparison, brilliantly displaying the quartet’s potential for motivic concentration, linear continuity, four-part inter-action, and rhetorical persuasion within a contrapuntal discipline. And even if polyphony was occasionally relieved by passages of relatively homogeneous rhythm and galant-style figuration, such digressions were subordinate. In Op. 50/4, Haydn makes more prominent use of textures that involve repetitive surface patterns and a melody-plus-accompaniment alignment of parts, especially in connection
with structural landmarks and moments of expressive impact, so that the move-ment vacillates between opposing styles, and the tensions between them furnish an expressive compositional resource.
Was the ambivalence of such a design, mixing strict and free technique, a viable alternative for future developments? Whatever the merits of learned poly-phony as the starting point of a musical narrative, the realm of free style claimed obvious advantages, offering room for the music to rest, breathe, and enjoy the play of diverse sonorities to which the quartet was so well adapted. It is scarcely surprising that in subsequent quartets that straddle the two domains, the hierarchic relationship between them is overturned: free style—with its familiar symme-tries and patterns of repetition, recurrence, and contrast—conclusively subsumes strict composition, whose elevated rhetoric and exacting technique relinquish their place as a movement’s controlling impetus without being discarded alto-gether as a source of enrichment within a larger design.