While we wait for the production of splendid new Sunday Classics posts, let's pause for a four-minute miracle

PROBABLY-NOT-BY-HAYDN*: Serenade (ii. Andante cantabile,
from String Quartet in F, Op. 3, No. 5)
[*As I put it in the amended title I assigned when I rejiggered the Internet Archive page for this clip (which we've heard before -- just don't ask me when, unless you really want to know): "Haydn's authorship of the six Op. 3 quartets is much disputed, but the alternate attribution to the monk Romanus Hofstetter is no slam dunk either."]

Yes, it's our old pals the Janáček Quartet (Jiří Trávníček and Adolf Sýkora, violins; Jiří Kratochvíl, viola; and Karel Krafka, cello; recorded May 1963) offering four minutes' worth of musical magic, from one of the most beautiful records I know. (Above we see the original British Decca LP jacket.)

by Ken

MONDAY UPDATE: I mentioned in the original version of this post that I had originally it was going to begin with a course of chatter having to do with how I happened on this subject. This has actually now happened -- see the "ON SECOND THOUGHT" Monday update down below, in the section "NOW, WE WANT TO HEAR THE WHOLE QUARTET, NO?"

All the same, the basic plan remains just to listen, with the proviso that this music -- actually, the entire set of six quartets that came to be known as Haydn's Op. 3 -- probably isn't by Haydn. Or then again, just possibly it is. And then still again, just to complicate things further, for reasons much too arcane to try to go into, it has been plausibly argued that the handy alternative attribution to the monk Romanus Hofstetter is just as unlikely. As far as I know, there the matter stands, and barring some startling document discovery (never out of the question!), we're never going to know any better than we do now!

But for us gathered here today, no matter! This seemingly simple, but in reality extraordinarily tricky, movement from Op. 3, No. 5, the movement that has always commandeered attention directed to the set, and it should already be obvious why: In the whole realm of music I've never heard anything like it. Maybe it's just one violin singing away at its infinitely expanding (and sometimes contracting) little song -- singing all the way through, note, with its mute in place, while the other violin, the viola, and the cello, pluck their fingers away in accompaniment -- is, well, pure magic. It would of course be ridiculously unscholarly to venture that it's too wonderful not to be by Haydn, but of course that argument doesn't have a leg to stand on.

(By the way, as long as we're thinking about that mute the violinist slaps on his instrument, we might note that the composer has done something interesting here. The quartet began in F major, and by using the utterly common device of pitching the second movement in the dominant key it winds up in C major, a pretty happy key tonally -- it practically radiates sunshine, and an especially happy key for string players. Except that the composer has gone and muted his singing violin and taken his playmates' bows away altogether. Really simple, right?)


BUT WAIT, THERE'S STILL MORE TO BE HEARD

"Post tease" afterthought: If you listened to the performances of Suppé's Fatinitza Overture in last week's "post tease," did any particular word come to mind?

I did provide notice in the above-mentioned "post tease" ("Well, why shouldn't we listen to the [at very rough guess] 8th- or 9th-best Suppé overture?") that I'd be asking the above-posed question.

In its day, Suppé's now-largely-forgotten operetta
Fatinitza was a sort of international sensation.

IN CASE IT'D HELP TO HEAR THE PERFORMANCES AGAIN
(THIS TIME WITH SOME COMPACT DESCRIPTIVE NOTES) --

FRANZ VON SUPPÉ: Fatinitza: Overture


Zestful and pungent: Hungarian State Orchestra, János Sándor, cond. From a Hungaroton-Laserlight CD of Suppé overtures

Classy, possibly even elegant: Orchestre symphonique de Montréal, Charles Dutoit, cond. From a Decca CD of Suppé overtures
Frothy, breathless, maybe downright lickety-split: Boston Pops Orchestra, Arthur Fiedler, cond. From the Boston Pops' RCA sequel LP More Classical Music for People Who Hate Classical Music

MAX SCHÖNHERR (arr.): 'Marziale' [i.e., a "martial" or military-ish piece] on themes from the operetta 'Fatinitza'

Always dependably musical: Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Neeme Järvi, cond. From a Chandos super-CD (89 minutes' worth!) of Suppé

by Ken

Before we proceed, I note that on the AllMusic website James Reel has gone to some length to describe the Overture for us. While we may quibble with some of the details ("like a chicken clucking"?), I think we have to applaud the effort.

The shining star of Viennese operetta in the 1860s, Suppé was temporarily eclipsed at the beginning of the next decade by the emergence of the younger Johann Strauss as a stage composer. Suppé returned to public favor in 1876 with Fatinitza, an operetta set during the 1854-1855 Russo-Turkish war; the libretto, ironically, was one of Strauss' rejects. The overture begins sternly, with very subtle hints at both military marches and Turkish music without breaking into either. The main theme here is a little march, almost Tyrolean, that sounds like a chicken clucking. One of Suppé's typically tumultuous transitions leads to quiet but fully Turkish music, complete with triangle. The exoticism falls away almost immediately for a grand, romantic theme, although the Turkish march soon returns in full force, leading to more tumult. Another whimsical march arrives, this one sounding like a Russian folk tune. A transition of conventional operetta chugging leads to yet another march, one worthy of the Strausses; this is the work's sprightly hit tune "Vorwärts mit frischem Muth" ("Forward with renewed courage"), which is sometimes played as a separate concert piece.

Okay, back to business! Did you come up with "a" word for the Fatinitza Overture? Probably mine is obvious by now, so rather than tell you, I'm going to play it for you.


A WORD OF WARNING: ONCE THIS MARCH GETS IN
YOUR HEAD, IT MAY NOT BE EASILY GOTTEN OUT