More than half of Schubert’s chamber works from 1824 to 1828 feature his preferred instrument, the piano. Yet in none of them does it function as an instrumental accompaniment, being instead an equal participant in a duo or trio chamber format. Especially in solo chamber works written for performance in recitals by befriended virtuoso instrumentalists, Schubert was perfectly willing to adapt the style brillant that flourished between 1820 and 1830. Based on the assumption that Schubert applied the style brillant solely for reasons of economy, his virtuoso chamber music has previously been considered to be of lesser value, mentioned only in passing. More recently, however, his turn to extroverted forms of expression has been described as a deliberate counterfoil to the introverted sublimation of his other ‘late’ works. This chapter considers the Fantasy in C Major (D934) and Variations in E Minor on ‘Trockne Blumen’ (D802) to show how Schubert discovered the sophisticated and outgoing mannerisms of the style brillant; it also discusses the development of ornamented variation techniques as an alternative to thematic development, and how this shift of emphasis between musical substance and figuration seems to anticipate the aesthetics of the Romantic arabesque.

There can be little doubt that the piano was one of Schubert’s instruments of choice, featuring not only in an array of solo pieces but also in chamber music and as an accompaniment to Lieder. Given the popularity of the instrument in Vienna during the early nineteenth century, this is perhaps not surprising. However, very little is known about Schubert’s own instruments, or which specific makers and models he preferred throughout his career. The instruments themselves underwent substantial change during Schubert’s lifetime, with preference moving away from the delicate touch and tone of late eighteenth-century models to the larger compass and more weighty tonal qualities of the instruments of the 1820s and 1830s, in part as a reaction to the demands of composers. By considering Schubert’s connection to specific instrument makers, the unique qualities of Viennese instruments and individual works for pianoforte by Schubert, this paper revisits what is known about the instruments he may have preferred, while also making observations about the connections between his keyboard music and the instruments that were available in early nineteenth-century Vienna.

Franz Schubert’s waltzes may seem small, but they bear more than meets the eye. Leopold von Sonnleithner tells us that Schubert ‘never danced, but was always ready to sit down at the piano, where for hours he improvised the most beautiful waltzes; those he liked he repeated, in order to remember them and to write them out afterwards’. The composer appears to have been inspired by the motion and joy he saw and caused, for certain waltzes communicate physical momentum and personalised interiority – reflections and echoes from the past.The effects expressed within Schubert’s waltzes arise from expectations elicited by their voice-leading, coupled with changes in texture, register, dynamics, metre and rhythm. This chapter will explore representative examples from Schubert’s Originaltänze, Valses sentimentales, Valses nobles, and the Zwanzig Walzer (Letzte Walzer) to demonstrate how they convey impressions of physicality and flow, perceptions of distance and disturbance, plus aspects of sonority and spatiality. In turn, these reflections and echoes offer insights regarding Schubert’s art and aesthetics, as well as the past they inhabited.

The word ‘Klavier’ occurs only twice in the texts of Schubert’s lieder, but both times in a prominent position – namely, in the titles of Christian Daniel Friedrich Schubart’s ‘An mein Klavier’ and Friedrich Schiller’s ‘Laura am Klavier’, both set to music in 1816 (respectively D342 and D388). The first poem deals with two figures – the narrative persona and his piano; the second with three – Laura, the piano and the narrative persona. In Schubart, the emphasis falls on the piano’s expressive potential; in Schiller, mainly on the impression it imparts. The two poems thus present the instrument in quite different, even antithetical, guises: introverted versus extroverted. Although Schubert turned to poems that were already a generation old (they were first published in 1785 and 1782, respectively) and had a different sound in mind compared to the two poets (this was an age of rapid evolution in keyboard instrument construction), the instrumental aesthetic displayed in Schubart’s and Schiller’s poems still applied with undiminished force in 1816. The antitheses marked by the poems Schubert chose with respect to the Klavier reveal the breadth of notions associated with the instruments that went by that name around 1800.

In spring 1838, Franz Liszt made his first appearances before the Viennese public with a selection of his transcriptions of Schubert’s Lieder for pianoforte. The performances unleashed veritable storms of applause from audiences and critics alike; some of the rapturous reviews even claimed that the music of Schubert, who had died ten years earlier, only became intelligible through Liszt’s playing. Liszt’s transcriptions were meant to transfer Schubert’s piano writing effectively to the new generation of concert grands. Their formidable virtuosity, which was frequently criticised in later years, was only superficially an end in itself, however. Instead, Liszt viewed virtuosity as a vehicle for obtaining the maximum expression appropriate to the original and for capturing the emotive quality of Schubert’s music. His precepts as an editor of Schubert’s piano music were of a different nature. Unlike contemporary editions, the Schubert volumes that Liszt prepared for the Stuttgart publishing house Cotta around 1870 are exemplary in quality and indicate every editorial intervention, while also being devoid of the arbitrary additions common to the subjectively tinged performance tradition of his generation. This chapter provides a thorough study of Liszt’s approach to Schubert’s music, while also considering the reception of his adaptations and editions.

In contrast to many contemporary composers, Franz Schubert was neither a virtuoso at the piano nor on any other instrument. His relationship to the piano appears rather pragmatic, in that he turned to the instrument when he was in demand: as a song accompanist and for dance music at Schubertiaden, as a four-handed partner or as a page-turner at larger events. He certainly did not see himself as a pianist, but first and foremost as a ‘composer’.This chapter explores Schubert’s public and semi-public appearances as a pianist by evaluating the contradictory statements about the quality and the quantity of his piano playing. It is concerned with his musical education, explores his piano playing in his later years and highlights his public appearance as a pianist. The comparison of Schubert’s biography with those of Viennese piano virtuosos and other composers sheds new light on the rapid development of the musical tastes of the Viennese bourgeois society in the first decades of the nineteenth century. Finally, the question of whether and to what extent the fact that Schubert was not present in the public concert life of his time diminished his career as a composer of ‘great’ works is discussed.

From 1810 to 1830, Viennese piano construction evolved in an attempt to combine the special sonority of Viennese instruments with new advances in technology. One important factor was the possibility of varying the sound between full and reduced or dampened action. A particularly striking change of sound could be produced by the soft or una corda pedal, which shifted the hammer rail so that the hammers struck only one rather than the standard three strings of a triple-strung piano. Although detailed knowledge of which composers wrote which works for which instrument is lacking, hypotheses can be advanced regarding the influence of the action of certain instruments on compositional style. A comparison of works by two composers from different generations – one earlier (Beethoven) and another later (Mendelssohn, who had a predilection for Viennese instruments in his youth) – sheds light on several peculiarities of Schubert’s piano music. Beethoven’s late works and Schubert’s works of the 1820s both exploit this potential in order to coordinate sonority and structure. However, the two composers differ in one key respect: Beethoven tended to use the sonic contrasts he exploited (and meticulously notated) to articulate the work’s architecture, whereas Schubert used them to refine atmosphere and mood.

In the early 1820s, music critics called attention to an innovative feature of certain Schubert Lieder: musical imagery in the piano accompaniment that both unifies the song and creates dramatic immediacy. Writers hailed this aspect of ‘Erlkönig’ (Op. 1) and ‘Gretchen am Spinnrade’ (Op. 2) in particular. The two songs’ main musical motifs – racing triplet rhythms evoking a galloping horse and a whirling sixteenth-note pattern evoking a spinning wheel – do more than provide unity and vivify the represented scene, however; they also powerfully contribute to the expression of changing emotions. The outer and inner worlds of the song persona(e) converge in, and are projected through, the piano accompaniment. This chapter examines the nature of musical imagery in Schubert Lieder, different ways that the musical motifs evolve, and the interpretive significance of those changes. The motif might be placed in new contexts, altered from within, fragmented, interrupted, or sounded with greater or lesser frequency, to the point of disappearing. Paradoxically, it might even evolve in meaning by resisting change. Songs analysed include ‘Erlkönig’, ‘Gretchen am Spinnrade’, ‘Meeres Stille’, ‘Auf dem Wasser zu singen’, ‘Jägers Abendlied’, ‘Halt!’, ‘Gefrorne Tränen’, ‘Letzte Hoffnung’, ‘Im Dorfe’, ‘Der Wegweiser’ and ‘Die Stadt’.

Analysis of addressee and writer–recipient relationships is a common methodology for the interpretation of written correspondence of ‘great’ composers. By contrast, when a musical text is the object of study, music philologists and performers alike tend to neglect such a contextual perspective when attempting to reveal its meaning – as if composers had no particular audience in mind when they wrote their piano music. This chapter attempts a characterisation of Schubert’s pianistic audience in Vienna as reflected in contemporary Viennese pianoforte treatises. The first part presents evidence to support such a geographically focused source selection – the distinctly nationalist stance of the Viennese pianoforte scene in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars and the Congress of Vienna. The second part compiles a brief genre history of the Viennese pianoforte treatise – both produced in Vienna and imported from abroad – during Schubert’s lifetime. The third part deduces several common principles from this fascinating corpus of sources and reads selected passages from Schubert’s works through this lens, exemplifying how some of the traditional ‘problems’ can be resolved in the context of early nineteenth-century Viennese pianism.

Schubert’s piano music and songs contain several examples where triplets are notated alongside dotted rhythms. Editors, writers and performers disagree about the performance of these rhythms, which exist in keyboard music from at least the late Baroque to the early twentieth century. This chapter surveys evidence from the long nineteenth century, drawing on previous literature and introducing new lines of enquiry. It situates the problem as it applies to Schubert within a broader view of the meaning of notation through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, suggesting that many aspects of rhythmic notation remained unfixed during the period.A broader range of evidence than previously considered is documented, including contradictory passages from performance tutors and other literature, anomalous notation in the music of several composers, different versions of Schubert’s works and rhythmic alignment in a range of sources. A study of engraving practice offers insight into the rhythmic presentation of published sources. Finally, early recordings demonstrate that rhythmic performance continued to be controversial into the twentieth century.Because of the scant and sometimes contradictory nature of the evidence, it is not possible to arrive at definitive solutions to the performance problems. Nevertheless, this chapter draws some distinctive conclusions from the sources.

The religious world of late medieval and early modern Central Europe is complicated, convoluted and, above, all entangled. But despite the real and tangible connections that linked the various polities of this region together, scholars have tended to explore this landscape along anachronistic divisions defined narrowly by language and nation. This article, by contrast, examines connections that developed between the Bohemian and Austrian lands. It begins in the mid-fourteenth century by exploring rivalling efforts of Emperor Charles IV in Prague and his son-in-law, Duke Rudolf IV of Austria, to build the institutional foundations upon which critical ecclesiastical changes occurred in the following three centuries. The chapter traces parallel reform programmes in the fifteenth century that had very different outcomes. While Hussitism left Bohemia isolated, the efforts of Nicholas of Cusa and others helped to integrate the Austrian lands into the broader ecclesiastical culture of the West. The sixteenth century brought an Erasmian humanism to both regions as well as more radical expressions of reform. Protestantism reached its high point here in the late sixteenth century only to collapse dramatically a few decades later with the great crisis of the Thirty Years’ War. The chapter concludes with a comparison of the exiles who left this region after the Catholic victory.

This essay describes a set of unconventional performances that I codirected with cultural historian John Sienicki. It demonstrates how we mixed genres, combining vocal music with related theatrical scenes, novels, and lectures; how historical research and musical praxis intersected in our creative process; how our improvisational rehearsal style worked; and how we designed performances with performers and intended audiences in mind. Some specific topics discussed are Schubert’s songs for female characters; the Vienna Volkstheater and its music; Lieder duets; and links between Schubert and the German historical-fiction writer Benedikte Naubert. These shows grew out of historical research and sometimes led to new research projects. I argue for the value of teaching Lieder performance by bringing in awareness of the songs’ historical and literary contexts. As some songs crossed genre boundaries, the worlds of theatrical music and art song can blend. Lieder existed in a complex, interconnected world, and nonstandard performances can accentuate their beauty and illuminate their meaning.

This study takes a novel approach, privileging opera arrangements over original operatic compositions, and the perspectives of amateur performers over those of composers. Several studies of opera arrangements from the era in question have already been published, which focus on particular composers or particular arrangement forms; and the emphasis lies on arrangements’ function as reception documents. This study differs in considering arrangements’ multiple functions, and ‘end users.

The rapidly changing political landscape of the Neapolitan Viceregno had a significant impact on the professional path of artists and musicians. Driven by a growing awareness of their central place in artistic culture, the Neapolitan string virtuosi became in many cases cultural agents who played an active role in endorsing and shaping the political and cultural programs of dynastic powers. The career of violinist Angelo Ragazzi is emblematic of the close cultural and artistic networks established between the Neapolitan and Viennese courts and illustrates the musicians’ negotiations with political powers. Ragazzi’s sonatas offer a privileged viewpoint from which to investigate the blending of “old” contrapuntal and “modern” concertante styles. In the first quarter of the eighteenth century, the proliferation in Naples of sonatas for three violins and continuo, characterized by marked contrapuntal language, derives in part from the influence of the Viennese contrapuntal style. The sonatas for three violins published by Giuseppe Antonio Avitrano appears as a unique case of printed instrumental music in Naples, realized thanks to influential aristocratic patronage, in a market that suffered from the absence of a significant middle-class amateur performers.

With the passage of the Viceregno under the control of the Habsburgs in 1707, cultural and artistic exchanges between Naples and Vienna intensified. Sources related to the makeup of the Cappella Reale show two significant trends: the growth of the string section and the introduction and increasing relevance of wind instruments. New documents record the early career in Naples of Francesco Geminiani in connection with the beginnings of the operatic season at the Teatro de’ Fiorentini, where the virtuoso is employed as first violin. Following the outset of the War of the Spanish Succession, Neapolitan musicians were summoned to the Real Capilla of Barcelona, the splendid music chapel established by Archduke Charles of Habsburg to assert his claims to the Spanish throne. When Charles became emperor in 1711 some of these musicians joined the Imperial Chapel in Vienna. The lists of personnel of the Hofmusikkapelle show that a number of virtuosi from Naples formed the core of the string section and contributed to the cosmopolitanism of that ensemble. The prestige of the Neapolitan string school is confirmed by the appointment of Giovanni Antonio Piani, who moved from Paris to Vienna in 1721, at the helm of the Imperial Chapel.

As titles referring to compositional genres, Nocturne, Notturno and Nachtsmusik had a particular resonance for nineteenth-century composers sensitive to romantic traditions extending from Schubert and Schumann to reach an apogee in Wagner’s celebration of the ‘fabled realm of night’ in Tristan und Isolde. Though placed there in explicit opposition to the mundane reality of daylight, Wagner (notably in Siegfried) also made much of the glorious effects of the rising sun. The tension between darkness and light as reflecting radically different states of mind as well as different effects of nature, was also a favoured topic for late romantic poets and painters active in the Viennese culture in which Schoenberg came to maturity. Nevertheless, the aspect of romantic sensibility that offset nocturnal unease with a heightened sense of the sublime and the supernatural ensured that examples of Night Music could have a special ambivalence in keeping with their exploratory technical resources.