Carl Stamitz (1745-1801) Clarinet Concertos Vol. 2 Among the best-known orchestral works of Carl Philip Stamitz (1745-1801) are the clarinet concertos which...
Carl Stamitz
(1745-1801)
Clarinet Concertos
Vol. 2
Among the best-known orchestral works of Carl Philip Stamitz (1745-1801)
are the clarinet concertos which rank not only among the earliest concertos for
the instrument but also among the finest of any concertos by Mozart's
contemporaries. Comparatively little is known about the origin of these works
in spite of their obvious historical and musical importance. The latest
research has narrowed the composition date of the eight authentic works to
around the years 1771-1776 when Stamitz was living in Paris.
Stamitz would have been well acquainted with the clarinet prior to his
move to Paris in 1770 as the Mannheim court orchestra, of which he had been a
member for several years, was among the first to include clarinets among its
forces. During the 1760s the instrument underwent a number of important
modifications which improved its tonal flexibility and intonation. From this
point on composers began to show a greater level of interest in writing for the
instrument but it was the popularity of Carl Stamitz's concertos, coupled with
the emergence of virtuoso exponents of the 'new' instrument, which seems to
have turned the tide. During the period 1760-1771 not one single clarinet
concerto was advertised for sale in the Breitkopf Catalogue, the largest and
most important 18th century catalogue of printed and manuscript music. The
first, a work by Starck, appeared in Supplement VII (1771) but then no further
works appeared for nine years until three of Stamitz's concertos were listed in
Supplement XIV (1781). Between 1782 and 1784, however, seven concertos appeared
in Supplement XV alone comprising works by various composers were advertised
the following year.
Stamitz's early experience of the clarinet was consolidated further
through his friendship with the great Bohemian clarinet virtuoso Johann Joseph
Beer (1744-1811) whom he met in Paris. Their professional association, similar
in many ways to that of Mozart and Stadler, resulted not only in a number of
joint performances at the Concerts spirituels but also in a succession
of concertos and chamber works which were composed for Beer's use Beer's
performance of one of Carl Stamitz's clarinet concertos on 24th December, 1771
is the first documented performance of a clarinet concerto in Paris. While
Beer's unrivalled technical command of the five-keyed clarinet undoubtedly
influenced the way in which Stamitz wrote for it, certain idiomatic devices
such as exaggerated intervallic leaps and broken-chord passage work can be
found in the works of pioneering figures such as Pokorny. Their overall musical
quality, however, owes far less to the virtuosity of the solo writing than to
Stamitz's elegant melodic style, structural subtlety and orchestral flair.
In 1938 Helmut Boese made a score of Concerto No. 7 in E flat
major (in some numbering systems No. 8) based on a set of manuscript parts -
the sole-surviving copy of the work - preserved in the Landesbibliothek in
Darmstadt. This material was destroyed in 1945 but its role in the work's
preservation is recognized in the nickname Darmstadter. On the basis of
the work's orchestral treatment Boese postulated that it may have been written
in the 1760s while Stamitz was a member of the Mannheim court orchestra. A
number of things argue strongly against this including Stamitz's employment of
mature classical phraseology and, not least the presence of a rondo finale
which did not come into vogue until the early 1770s. But overall, the work
simply does not sound like a 'pre-classical' concerto. Its broad symphonic
writing is classical in conception and construction; the wind instruments are
deployed with great skill and subtlety; and the orchestra is entrusted with
important thematic material during the solo sections. An example of Stamitz's
structural flexibility can be heard in the preparation for the recapitulation
when he reintroduces the solo instrument in what it is otherwise a
retransitional ritornello. It is a lovely touch and one which reinforces
the previous unexpected use of new thematic material in the second solo. The
opening of the Adagio is also striking with the clarinet holding a long,
sustained note while the strings play the principal theme; this process is
repeated and then the clarinet gently unfolds and develops the material over a
beautifully transparent accompaniment. A perky Rondo follows whose
pervasive good humour is only momentarily darkened during the minore episode.
As in the case of the previous work a copy of Concerto No. 8 in B
flat major (No. 9) was also preserved in Darmstadt until the last year of the
War, hence the nickname 2. Darmstadter. More importantly it was
published in Paris by Sieber as the sixth of a group of six Stamitz clarinet
concertos. Boese also believed that this concerto dated from the composer's
Mannheim years but perhaps with a little more justification on this occasion.
The symphonic writing in the opening movement is thoroughly modern but the
orchestra is deployed in a rather less enterprising manner in the accompaniment
of the solo instrument than in the E flat major Concerto. The second
movement, too, has a rather old-fashioned cast to it both structurally and in
terms of its musical syntax although the clarinet writing is expressive and
idiomatic. While the choice of a Rondo finale is modern, the Tempo di
minuetto marking is less so unless, of course, Stamitz was making a polite
nod in the direction of his Parisian audiences. As one would expect, the
episodes are more lightly scored than the rondo theme itself but in this
instance the style of accompaniment is surprisingly thin, almost in the manner
of the 'galant' concerto. This, along with a number of other structural
elements in the first two movements, may be an indication that the work
predates Concerto No. 7.
Concerto No. 11 in E flat major was not issued by Sieber and only one manuscript
copy, preserved in the Thurn und Taxis Hofbibliothek in Regensburg, has come
down to us. Like the earlier concertos on this recording the work opens with a
broad, leisurely orchestral ritornello written in the best traditions of
his Mannheim colleagues. Once again Stamitz reserves the later stages of the
movement for structural experimentation. He introduces the second solo,
analogous to the development section in a sonata movement, with new thematic
material, clearly a favourite device as he does so in a number of his
concertos. This material is deflected quietly into the minor and then allowed
to unfold. Although the music modulates back to the tonic and thereafter
behaves in a tonally orthodox fashion, Stamitz does not reintroduce the opening
theme. This technique is quite common in the symphony but less so in the
concerto of the period. The second movement is aptly titled Aria and
indeed it is not only reminiscent of opera in its ravishing cantilena for
the clarinet but also in its strophic-like structure. The accompaniment is
sensitive and varied throughout and the inclusion of a pair of horns, used
sparingly by Stamitz, adds a richness and intensity to the orchestral palette.
The German musicologist Engels styled the finale Rondo alla Scherzo - a
title also adopted by Newhill - although its original designation was Rondo
alla Schas (i.e. Chasse). This jaunty hunting movement, which at
times reminds one of Dittersdorf's Actaeon Symphony (Naxos 8.553368),
includes a quotation of the old Prussian hunting call known as the Grosse
Halali. Haydn uses fragments of the same call in the chorus Hort das
laute Geton in his oratorio The Seasons.
Concerto No. 10 was advertised in the Breitkopf Catalogue in 1781 which probably
indicates a composition date from the mid- to late-1770s. The work was not
published in Stamitz's lifetime and only two manuscript copies of the work,
preserved in Vienna and Prague, are known. Much of what has been written about the
earlier concertos on this recording applies here. Stamitz's great lyric gifts
are much in evidence, particularly in the fine second-movement Andante
sostenuto, and there are exquisite details in the solo and orchestral
writing, often undramatic and not immediately apparent, which betray the care
and affection with which the work was written.
Allan Badley