Four Pieces for clarinet & piano In fin de siècle Europe, as tonality was becoming subordinate to increasing use of chromaticism and key signatures began disappearing form the works of prominent composers, the concept of “maximization of the minimum” was manifesting itself in music. , widely recognized for his compositions of “supreme brevity”, along with his teacher and colleague , experimented with composition on the micro scale. Just as Schoenberg’s abandonment of key signatures in 1908 symbolized reaction against common practice tonality, so to was the lean towards musical compression a reaction against the superfluous repetition of the Romantic era – and both shifts occurred during a time when the world was experiencing similar tumult and uncertainty.

Schoenberg declared, “we shouldn’t have repetition”, reinforcing the concept “less is more”, and his Pierrot Lunaire is a masterpiece of short forms, as is Webern’s Three Little Pieces for Cello and Piano. Both exemplify extreme conciseness within the context of free and these miniatures serve as microcosms of the composers’ overall style as is present in their larger works. Berg’s perspective on the “Art of the miniature” exists in his Four Pieces for Clarinet and Piano, Op. 5. While it is the only piece in his output to explore short forms, this composition is brimming with elements of profound expressionism (namely, sehnsucht and weltschmerz) and, despite its short duration, effortlessly conveys a turbulent emotional landscape in a manner no less effective than a much lengthier Brahms sonata.

Berg was born in Vienna in 1885; although he evolved into one of the preeminent composers of the , he did not begin composing until the age of 15 and was largely self-taught before becoming a student of Schoenberg in 1904. Berg remained under the tutelage of Schoenberg until 1911 and maintained a close friendship with his teacher even after his formal studies concluded, so it is not surprising the elder composer profoundly influenced Berg. He was often affected by public reaction to his music and was especially sensitive to the pointed criticisms of Schoenberg, whom Berg regarded as a father figure (his own father died when he was 15).

Though perhaps he is better known for large-scale works including his , the opera, , and the Lyric Suite for , Berg’s Four Pieces for Clarinet and Piano are authentic to his compositional style and encapsulate his greatly sensitive personality while also containing moments of intense expressionism. He may have been experimenting with a form more attributed to Webern, but Berg by no means distorted his own idiom; “Webern’s tendencies at the time were self-effacingly anti-dramatic… Even if Berg had been attracted by this vision of detachment, he would have had to deny his personality in order to implement it… though Webern had mastered the art of musical haiku, Berg could not keep his music from wanting to go on and say more. The clarinet pieces tease more than they satisfy” (Monson 114). These pieces are actually miniatures in the style of Berg and do not contain substantial influence from Webern or Schoenberg outside of structure and concept.

Karen Monson, the late music critic and author, describes the Op. 5 pieces as “oddities” in Berg’s output. She considers two explanations that illuminate why Berg felt compelled to delve into this genre: at the time of their completion (1913), he was still a young man (28) and the tasks he undertook to earn income, including copying and editing music, detracted from time required to compose a large-scale work. However, the more likely artistic explanation for the genesis of Op. 5 stems from Berg’s admiration of Webern and Schoenberg: “Both of the older composers had been dealing in ever-shorter musical time spans; by denying tonality… they were also denying themselves the luxury of musical expansiveness” (Monson 112). Schoenberg himself suggests his atonal music (along with that of Webern and Berg) is distinguished by its “extreme expressiveness and extraordinary brevity”; in his mind, the former is the cause of the latter (Hansen 65). While Schoenberg and his students may have been more willing to consider “musical expansiveness” a lavish extravagance of the previous century rather than a “luxury” (Schoenberg explored expansiveness in Transfigured Night and decided it was time to move on), it is undisputed that Berg’s teacher (and Webern) influenced him tremendously. In fact, Op. 5 is the first in a series of works to be publically dedicated to Schoenberg and the title page contains an inscription acknowledging him.

The concept of miniature pieces for solo instrument and piano dates back to Beethoven, Schumann, and Debussy; however, Berg’s adaptation of the style is structurally most nearly linked to Webern’s Six Bagatelles for String Quartet, Op. 9. In fact, Berg originally intended to compose six movements to match the quantity present in Webern’s piece (Monson 113). However, because he ultimately concluded with four movements, “Even in this realm of the atonal miniature, Berg used the outline of traditional forms” (Monson 114). Indeed, the piece forms a mini-sonata containing an allegro opening, adagio second movement, scherzo and trio, and finishes with a rondo finale. Although influenced by Webern’s Op. 9 (and likely also Schoenberg’s Op. 19), Berg’s Op. 5 pieces also demonstrate the overwhelming impact of Pierrot. Monson asserts that Pierrot caught Berg “off guard”, and Berg himself said, “I only know that on the two occasions when I heard Pierrot I was conscious of the most profound impression ever made on me by a work of art… and I cannot imagine that with my small technical ability… I shall ever be able to comprehend this work which seems to me like a miracle of nature” (Monson 116).

Despite questioning his compositional ability, particularly in the shadow of a masterpiece like Pierrot, Berg’s Op. 5 represent a landmark in his career, for it is believed the clarinet pieces are his first work to be written without comments from Schoenberg. They undoubtedly represent the efforts of a fully developed composer, yet Webern’s pairings of piano with string instruments were privileged to more public exposure simply because there were more string players on the solo-recital circuit. Furthermore, there is no known clarinetist for whom Berg was composing this piece, nor did any of his orchestral pieces preceding Op. 5 feature the clarinet in an exceptionally soloistic capacity. Yet, “Berg proved he could write for the [clarinet] as if he had mastered it through years of practice. The little pieces burst with orders for a wide variety of articulations, wide leaps… and sudden, surprising shifts in dynamics, exploiting the possibilities of the clarinet as only a virtuoso knows them” (Monson 113-114). The Op. 5 pieces are certainly virtuosic, at least from the standpoint of the performers. However, the fluidity and lyricism of Berg’s style distracts listeners’ attention from the technical challenges present in the work. This thoughtfully developed musical coherence in Op. 5 can be traced directly to Berg’s upbringing, for in his teaching, Schoenberg (and later, Berg) emphasized the concept of unity throughout a work being dependent on the entire composition originating from a single idea. One of Berg’s own students further clarified, “The main principle he conveyed was that of variation: everything was supposed to develop out of something else and yet be intrinsically different” (Monson 19). During the common practice period, tonality assisted in elucidating such unity, but the clarinet pieces are among the most atonal in Berg’s output. Monson points out, “Berg could never separate himself from the magnetism of thirds and sixths as Webern could, so there are moments even in the clarinet pieces when the ear tunes to a home key, major or minor. But for Berg, the clarinet pieces are unusually free-floating” (Monson 112-113).

Instead of reliance on returning to a tonic key (as there is no tonic in this music), Berg utilizes striking and rapid contrasts involving dynamics, tempo variance, and character shifts to develop this music: “Like Webern’s music of the time, Berg’s clarinet pieces are cushioned in softness, skirting utter inaudibility (as when the pianist is asked to push down the keys without actually sounding the note at the end of the fourth piece). Again characteristically, however, Berg’s music would not be so comfortably contained, and almost violent explosions mark both the first and the last parts of the Op. 5” (Monson 114).

Berg himself doubted the import of his Op. 5, citing in a letter to his wife that while they weren’t original in form, they were equally significant as the Altenberg Songs regarding “intention” (Monson 115). He often experienced anxiety concerning public acceptance of his works, perhaps equating approval with his self-worth as an artist. He once stated, “If I didn’t know that a proper judgment can be delivered only after a work is finished, I should despair every other day” (Monson 115). However, while Berg remained skeptical of the artistic substance of Op. 5, Monson suggests this work’s structure and stylistic elements foreshadow some of his mature large-scale pieces: “The fourth piece of [Op. 5] marks the turning point… and points to the Lyric Suite and even toward the rondo structures so favored in the opera ” (Monson 115).

Berg’s foray into the realm of instrumental miniatures, although it may have upset Schoenberg (who heartily agreed with Berg’s self-deprecating labeling of his compositional abilities), is no less emotionally engaging than his teacher’s masterpiece he so deeply admired. Schoenberg once said, “A work of art can produce no greater effect than when it transmits the emotions which raged in the creator to the listener, in such a way that they also rage and storm in [the listener]… In reality there is only one greatest goal towards which the artist strives: to express himself” (Hansen 61). Op. 5, now over 100 years old, inspires the same anguish, unrest, and nostalgia in the 21st century listener and performer as Berg was experiencing at the onset of the Great War; their emotional content transcends the gap from time of composition to present day, allowing Op. 5’s visceral impact to remain unaltered. Such a rare accomplishment is attained by only the greatest of artists, and Berg’s Four Pieces for Clarinet and Piano are an eternal masterpiece by a masterful composer.

- John Diodati

Hansen, Peter S. An Introduction to Twentieth Century Music. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1967.

Monson, Karen. Alban Berg. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1979.