The String Quartet: A Brief Introduction

The string quartet began as a distillation of the orchestra—a large ensemble that initially consisted of only string instruments but then incorporated winds, brass, and percussion. As in orchestras today, the string section of the orchestra was split into parts, or smaller sections of string instruments. Today, the main five parts are first violins, second violins, violas, cellos, and basses, all of which may be further split into subsidiary parts, each one reading from the same sheet music. But for centuries, the cello and bass parts were the same, with the basses sounding an octave below the cellos even though they read the same notes. Therefore, the string quartet was born at a time when the string sections of orchestras were split into four parts.

The trio sonata—a primarily Renaissance and Baroque genre of composition for two melodic instruments, one bass instrument, and a keyboard or lute—also provided an important precedent for the string quartet. The trio sonata was the dominant type of chamber music composition from the early 17th century to the mid-18th century, when it was gradually displaced by the string quartet. And although the trio sonata usually had four instruments, it had three parts—three separate pieces of sheet music that the players would read from.

Bach: Trio Sonata in C minor for Flute, Violin, and Continuo, from Musical Offering, BWV 1079

The difference between the orchestra and trio sonata is that the orchestra tended to have more of a homophonic texture: the parts move together rhythmically with one prominent melody supported harmonically by the rest of the orchestra. The trio sonata tended to have more of a polyphonic texture: the parts have more rhythmic independence and seem to take on a life of their own, with multiple melodies sounding at the same time.

There are practical reasons for this difference. Orchestras had many more than four players, and polyphonic textures are more difficult to coordinate than homophonic textures. (The introduction, in the early 19th century, of the conductor—whose job it was to coordinate the players—would allow for more complicated orchestral parts.) The trio sonata had two melodic instruments and very few players, and therefore polyphonic textures were much easier to execute. Polyphonic textures are also harder to hear with larger numbers of players because the parts must be balanced to be heard. (Think of how hard it is to hear someone talking over car horns.) In orchestras with only string instruments, this balance becomes especially difficult because the instrumental sections sound so similar to one another. Each instrument is, in essence, a higher or lower—smaller or bigger—version of every other instrument, and when these instruments are grouped en masse, the sounds tend to blur together. This is perfectly fine when you’re meant to hear harmonies and one melody (homophonic textures), but not when you’re supposed to hear multiple independent parts (polyphonic textures).

String quartets have only string instruments too, so why is it easier to hear multiple parts in this context? One answer is that having one instrument to each part gives it a sharper sound which is lost in larger sections. Another answer is that it simply isn’t easier to hear multiple parts—and this is also true. The small number of players in a string quartet makes it easier to coordinate the parts, but how to differentiate between these parts is where the composer has an opportunity to shine: the solution to this problem is what makes someone a great string-quartet composer.

The string quartet existed before Haydn—theoretically. There were works for four string parts (which are now understood to have been written for orchestra) and works for two violins, viola, and cello. But these are not the same thing as a string quartet. There have also been arguments that the Austro-Moravian composer Franz Xaver Richter (1709–89) actually wrote the first string quartets. But, again, these are not the same as what we’ve come to consider the string quartet. It’s also unclear when these quartets were written, and they were published five years after the first publication of Haydn’s Op. 1 string quartets.

Therefore, for all practical purposes, Haydn invented the string quartet. The development of the string quartet from a composition for an instrumentation to a unique genre of its own, with certain forms, movement structures, characters, and interactions between the players—in other words, an identity—was largely the history of Haydn’s experimentations within the genre.

Haydn’s first string quartets were also his first published compositions: Opp. 1 and 2 (published 1764–68 and 1765, respectively, but both written 1757–62). There are six quartets in each opus. (Publishing opuses as collections of works, instead of as a single work, was a common practice at the time.) One noticeable feature about these early quartets is the movement structure: five movements instead of four (except Op. 1 No. 5), with fast first and last movements, a slow middle movement, and the minuet-and-trio form in the second and fourth movements—instead of the fast–slow–fast–fast movement scheme, with the minuet-and-trio third, that would become the standard for many future instrumental genres.

Haydn: Quartet in B-flat major for Strings, Hob. III:1, Op. 1, No. 1, "La chasse"

In Haydn’s string quartets of the following decade, the movement structure started to evolve. Each of the 12 string quartets in Haydn’s Opp. 9 and 17 string quartets (both 1771; again, six in each set) has four movements, but the structure is still off: the first movement has variable tempos, the minuet-and-trio is the second movement, and the third movement is slow. In Haydn’s Op. 20 (1774; the “Sun” quartets, one of his best-known sets), each of the six string quartets has four movements, the first one fast and the second and third alternating between a minuet-and-trio and a slow movement. Therefore, only half the quartets have the movement structure that is now typical of string quartets. Half the quartets also have the unusual feature of fugues for finales.

In terms of form, Opp. 9, 17, and 20 also showed Haydn’s increasing control over his medium. Sonata form, which, like the string quartet and the symphony, was primarily defined by Haydn, gradually began to materialize into a more concrete substance. This form would become most closely associated with the first movements of many instrumental genres, and in these string quartets, it appears in various movements. But perhaps the more interesting observation is the variability of forms in the other movements, which, like the first movement, would over time become associated with particular forms.

With his six Op. 33 string quartets of 1781, Haydn solidified the percolating elements that, in his previous quartets, were only just brimming above the surface. Sonata form found its destined resting place within the first movement; other movements adopted elements of “rondo” form, a form that alternates familiar bits with unfamiliar bits (A, B, A, C, A…). Counterpoint, a concept most often identified with the Baroque and finding its zenith in fugues, took a backseat to a new conception of the ensemble as a single dynamic unit. And within this interwoven tapestry of music were threads—motives, or brief segments of notes from the themes—spun between the instruments, connecting the ideas and unifying the four players in an intricate, elegant interplay of sounds and energies. (Haydn called it a “new and special manner.”) The middle two movements of these quartets were still inconsistent in their ordering of fast and slow, and the minuet-and-trio movements were replaced with more lighthearted “scherzos” (literally “jokes” in Italian). But the Op. 33 string quartets served as a foundational building block of the string quartet repertoire—an enormous forward thrust in the evolutionary history of the genre and a boundless source of inspiration for future composers.

Haydn: Quartet in G major for Strings, Hob. III:41, Op. 33, No. 5

One of these composers was Mozart.

The compositional habit most associated with the Austrian prodigy is taking very little time to complete compositions. However, this was not the case with Mozart’s “Haydn” Quartets—a set of six string quartets dedicated to Haydn and written between 1782 and 1785, presumably in direct response to Haydn’s Op. 33. Mozart himself admitted they were “the fruits of long and arduous labor,” and this statement is evidenced by the fact that among the surviving manuscripts, there are many drafts and corrections.

But the inventiveness and subtlety of these quartets also make Mozart’s assertion ring true.

In the “Haydn” quartets, Mozart combines the philosophy of Haydn’s Op. 33 quartets with the practices of Haydn’s earlier quartets—and of earlier composers. Counterpoint, in music, is a term that describes how two or more individual lines of notes interact with one another; it also implies that the lines move independently of one another. In traditional (Renaissance/Baroque) counterpoint, there are rules for how these lines move both on their own and in relation to each other, and from the late 18th century onward, many composers studied counterpoint as part of their education. In Haydn’s Op. 33, each instrument has a stronger sense of identity and individuality because of the motives shared between the instruments, but counterpoint is a less prominent feature. In Mozart’s “Haydn” quartets, motives and counterpoint combine to give the individual instruments even more individuality. Imitation—a classic example of what’s known as a “contrapuntal device”—occurs not just in the short fragments of notes shared between instruments, but also in entire themes that show up in different places and guises. Chromaticism (the use of notes outside the key) also creates a perception of individuality because the instruments are not always sharing the same sets of notes—a characteristic that generates dissonance (which is, incidentally, the subtitle of the most famous quartet of the set, the C major, K. 465).

Mozart: Quartet in C major for Strings, K. 465, “Dissonance”

The fifth quartet of Mozart’s “Haydn” set had a particularly strong influence on Beethoven, whose fifth string quartet of his first published set (Op. 18, 1799) resembles Mozart’s. This collection of six quartets is relatively conservative (for Beethoven, at least), but his next set, Op. 59 (1806), the “Razumovsky” quartets (named for their probable commissioner, Count Razumovsky), raised the bar for the genre.

In the late 18th and very-early 19th centuries, composers wrote string quartets with amateurs—ensembles made up of nobility or the wealthy who were not professionally trained—in mind. Generally speaking, the level of difficulty in string quartets was such that amateur ensembles were able to able to play/sightread them reasonably well.

The “Razumovsky” quartets were not such works.

The technical difficulties in these quartets were immense, even to the professional ensemble that premiered them. In fact, the Schuppanzigh Quartet—named for its founder and first violinist, Ignaz Schuppanzigh, and created after Count Razumovsky instructed Schuppanzigh to assemble the “finest string quartet in Europe”—may have been the first professional string quartet ensemble, and they premiered nearly all Beethoven’s quartets. Therefore, the “Razumovsky” quartets essentially created a new genre of string quartet, one that could not be performed by just any ensemble of players.

Beethoven: Quartet in E minor for Strings, Op. 59, No. 2, “Razumovsky”

But the quartets also expanded the scope of what a string quartet could be. When Beethoven wrote them, he had completed his Third Symphony (Eroica), which pushed to the limits what a symphony could be—harmonic experimentations and extended movements, with a sonata-form first movement that sounded continuous and uncompromising and baffled initial audiences. (It took several years before the symphony received the positive recognition it deserved, recognition that placed it at the forefront of the symphonic repertoire.) Perhaps in his “Razumovsky” quartets, Beethoven wanted to create something just as revolutionary. Like Eroica, they have extended movements, more complexity, and radical departures from the string quartet bedrock laid by Haydn and Mozart. In them, we hear the Beethoven of his “Heroic” period, a sound which did much to define him as a composer. His next two quartets, the “Harp,” Op. 74 (1809), and “Serioso,” Op. 95 (1810), continued in this vein, pushing the boundaries of what was possible in string quartet writing.

And then, in 1823—13 years after his previous quartet—Beethoven embarked on a series of string quartets that would provide a grand gesture to close out his life.

The numbering of these quartets, both in terms of order (e.g., No. 15) and opus number (e.g., Op. 132), are out of chronological order; the order in which they were composed is: No. 12/Op. 127, No. 15/Op. 132, No. 13/Op. 130, No. 14/Op. 131, and No. 16/Op. 135. Just to add to this numerical confusion, one of the late string quartet works, the Grosse Fuge (Great Fugue), Op. 133, was originally composed as a finale for the 13th string quartet, but Beethoven (very astutely) decided to publish the enormous, complicated fugue separately and compose a new finale for the original string quartet.

But while the gestation of these quartets was messy (rather like the slung paints of a Kandinsky), the quartets were anything but. It would be erroneous to say that all the late quartets were radical—that would be out of character for the 52-year-old Beethoven, who had nothing to prove. (His Ninth Symphony was premiered before the 12th string quartet was completed.) The boldness of the composer’s middle period is still very much baked into the spirit of the quartets, but there is a level of compositional control not present in the earlier quartets.

They started with the marking “Maestoso”—“Majestic,” and indeed they were majestic. Even the first of the set, the 12th, opens with a movement that moves through colorful panels of themes, sounds, and moods. This sonata-form collage, along with increased use of counterpoint, foreshadows characteristics that pervade, to some extent, all the late quartets.

Op. 131, the 14th quartet, is the most notable of the set. In it, composers for generations found something close to perfection. (Schubert once said of the quartet, “After this, what is left for us to write?”; he requested on his deathbed to have the quartet played so it would be the last music he ever heard.) The first movement is a fugue. Fugue for Beethoven was a sore spot because he hadn’t studied fugue-writing as intensely as he should have in his youth. Therefore, his approach to this genre later in life necessitated an awkward return to study. The contemporaneous Grosse Fuge may sound unhinged (it presented considerable difficulty to performers and listeners alike), but the fugue of Op. 131 is handled with masterful technique. Each of the seven movements runs into the other, and an array of different keys for each movement creates a dramatic arc, with only the first and final movements in the “home” key of C-sharp minor. The result is one extended yet controlled breath.

Beethoven: Quartet in C-sharp minor for Strings, Op. 131

Markings in the 15th and 16th quartets tell a story of Beethoven’s final years. In April 1825, he became ill; upon recovery, he wrote, for the 15th quartet, a hymnlike middle movement entitled “Sacred Song of Thanks from a Convalescent to the Godhead.” Two and a half years later, Beethoven composed the 16th quartet—both his final numbered quartet and his final complete string quartet. The last movement is headed “Der schwer gefasste Entschluss” (“The difficult decision”); below are the tempo marking—“Grave, ma non troppo tratto” (“Solemn, but not too dragged out”)—and, directly above the first notes of the slow introduction, the words “Muss es sein?” (“Must it be?”). When the tempo becomes fast and the main theme appears, over the first notes of that theme are the words “Es muss sein!” (“It must be!”). Beethoven’s friends and colleagues, along with countless scores of historians, have provided analyses of these words, many of them conflicting—everything from Beethoven’s inevitable grappling with fate to a joke song he wrote in response to a musician asking if it was necessary to pay for his sheet music. But the openness of interpretation is part of what makes Beethoven’s late string quartets immortal—the stuff of legends.