Triumphal March for Kuffner’s Drama, Tarpeja
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Although the New Grove Dictionary of Music lists some fifteen marches by Beethoven, written for a great range of instrumental combinations (everything from mechanical clock to wind ensembles and full orchestra), there are perhaps only three march compositions which stand out in the catalogue of Beethoven’s works: a majestic march in Act I of FIDELIO, the “Turkish” episode in the finale of the Ninth Symphony (in every way a march), and that dear old chestnut, the March from the RUINS OF ATHENS. The other dozen or so examples of Beethoven as composer of marches mostly fall into the cracks in the vast sweep of his output----some music lovers may remember Beethoven as march-composer when recalling Paul Hindemith’s delightful Sinfonia Serena, where a Beethoven march for wind ensemble is absorbed into the fabric of a 20th century symphony in an unexpected and inventive manner.
Even the most dedicated Beethovenian may register a complete blank on hearing the title “Incidental Music to Tarpeja,” the source of work opening today’s concert. A young Austrian playwright, Christopher Kuffner, was well-known in the early years of the 19th century for his adaptations of the works of the Roman comic poet Plautus. Kuffner, who had studied music, and later became acquainted with Beethoven: Carl Czerny credits him with helping to shape the text of Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy, that curious anticipation of the choral finale of the Ninth Symphony. Kuffner’s drama, Tarpeja, a work set in the antique Roman at the time of the Sabines, was first performed at
The March opens with a fanfare-like tune featuring the dotted rhythms characteristic of Austrian marches from the time of Mozart through Schubert and Johann Strauss. At first played by the brass (softly), the strings join in, at first providing a pizzicato accompaniment, then taking the lead with a majestic statement for full orchestra. A middle section appears in the dominant key of G, with light triplet figuration in the strings against a background of repeated triplet chords in the winds. In a typically Beethovenian touch, a single unexpected note (G-sharp) rises to the surface, lending a piquant twist to what otherwise would be a rather bland display of ceremonial flourishes. The march rounds out its two minutes of splendor with the return of the initial march melody, the triplet figuration pressing the music to a bright, high-stepping conclusion.