(MUSIC) So, if the development takes a broad, flexible view of its position within the sonata, the recapitulation is paint-by-numbers. The first theme area is varied lightly, but not substantively: it starts and ends identically to how it does in the exposition. The bridge passage, which was in the dominant minor (MUSIC), is now in the tonic minor (MUSIC), and the second theme, accordingly, is restored to the tonic as well. (MUSIC) All very orderly. This orderliness continues right up to the end of the recap, with the reiteration of this material. (MUSIC) This orderliness, this predictability, seems destined to bring about a similarly orderly end to the movement. (MUSIC) And that broken octave passage – the transposed-to-the-C-Major-tonic version of the end of the exposition – is indeed the way the movement ultimately comes to an end. But first, there is a two-minute-long detour, because what actually happens is this. (MUSIC) Not orderly. Not predictable. Rather: the big bang. Now, opus 7, which has a comparably athletic opening movement (on top of many other similarities), had a similar detour in what ought to have been its final moments, with this, (MUSIC) failing to happen. Rather we get this (MUSIC), leading to a rather extensive coda. But what happens in opus 2 number 3 is more than just a surprise coda: we get a cadenza. Now, this is the 9th lecture in this series, and it’s entirely impossible that the word “cadenza” hasn’t been used a single time until now: this is, in itself, revealing-- the cadenza has no place in the sonata. It belongs to concerto form. And on the rare occasion that Mozart did incorporate a cadenza into a sonata, it was invariably in the rondo finale – I’m thinking of the violin/piano sonata in D Major, K305, the B-flat Major piano sonata K333, the strangely numbered F Major Sonata K533/494. Some enterprising person will probably correctly refute this, but I don’t think there is any first movement by Mozart or Haydn with a cadenza. Hell, hardly any of them have codas in those composers! This is Beethoven going off-script, emphatically. Now, just a word or two about how cadenzas work, about what they are: on the most obvious level, they are the moment in the concerto when the solo player leaves the orchestra behind and plays on his or her own. Typically, the cadenza is the only time this happens in any extensive way. This is a very significant thing in the concerto form, because a huge source of its drama as a form comes from the pitting of the one against the many. It even looks dramatic! So, when all of a sudden, the soloist gets to play alone, without interference, usually in a virtuosic and/or improvisatory manner, it’s an arresting moment in the piece. Obviously, in the piano sonata, in which we only have the one, without the many, and therefore there is no gladiatorial element, this source of cadenza drama doesn’t exist. But the other source of drama that a cadenza mines is (surprise, surprise) harmonic in nature. So, a very quick review: Most classical, major key works, if reduced to the very broadest possible outline, unfold as a I-V-I harmonic scheme. (MUSIC) Therefore, the final cadence – the final landing on I – is hugely significant. A cadenza adds drama by postponing that cadence – it’s no coincidence the words cadenza and cadence are so close to one another! We land on what’s called a V-64 chord. (MUSIC) And then the cadenza is really about extending this progression (MUSIC), often for an excruciatingly long time. Here is one example, the Mozart concerto K 488. This is the end of the tutti. (MUSIC) V-64. Then the piano plays the following cadenza, in this case written by Mozart himself. (MUSIC) Now, there’s a reasonable amount of harmonic mucking-about there, but basically this is about getting from that initial orchestral chord (MUSIC), to that final cadence (MUSIC). That is the essential outline of every single classical cadenza. So, not only does Beethoven insert this into a different form: the sonata – he tweaks it a bit. Rather than arrive on the traditional cadential V-64 (MUSIC), we get this (MUSIC). This is a mad break with tradition, but what’s amazing is that despite being the wrong chord in the wrong genre, we still understand that this is a cadenza, just by virtue of the cessation of the momentum. It’s genius really: what cadenza drama Beethoven loses by not having the sense of the pianist freeing himself from the shackles of the orchestra, he gains through this harmonic wonderland… Followed, in short order, by harmonic wanderlust. (MUSIC) So, lest there was any doubt that this is a cadenza, he does eventually lead us to the classic cadential VI-IV. (MUSIC) And from that point on, it’s textbook: the rest of the cadenza is essentially a lingering on V, until he’s ready to resolve matters. (MUSIC) And, we’re back, and finally ready to move on to the rather generously proportioned coda, which, remember, would already have been a fairly innovative thing, even without the jackhammer he just threw into sonata form with that cadenza. (MUSIC) And finally, we’re ready for the conclusion, the one mirroring the end of the exposition, which just got postponed – withheld – for a massively long time. (MUSIC) Again, opus 7 is the sonata that got the word “grand” appended to it – and it is, indeed, longer than opus 2 number 3, but this is the work in which Beethoven imposes the heroism of the concerto form onto sonata structure, and in doing so, again expands the possibilities of what a sonata can be.
