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by

Amanda Hughes

May 2019
A NARRATIVE STUDY OF NIKOLAI MEDTNER’S SONATA IN E MINOR, OP. 25,
NO. 2, “NIGHT WIND”

__________________

An Essay

Presented to the Faculty of the

Moores School of Music

Kathrine G. McGovern College of the Arts

University of Houston

__________________

In Partial Fulfillment

Of the Requirements for the Degree of

Doctor of Musical Arts

__________________

by

Amanda Hughes

May 2019
A NARRATIVE STUDY OF NIKOLAI MEDTNER’S SONATA IN E MINOR, OP. 25,
NO. 2, “NIGHT WIND”

__________________________
Amanda Hughes

APPROVED:

________________________
Andrew Davis, Ph.D.
Committee Chair

__________________________
Paul Bertagnolli, Ph.D.

________________________
Nancy Weems, M.M.

________________________
Tali Morgulis, D.M.A.

_________________________
Andrew Davis, Ph. D.
Dean, Kathrine G. McGovern College of the Arts
A NARRATIVE STUDY OF NIKOLAI MEDTNER’S SONATA IN E MINOR, OP. 25,
NO. 2, “NIGHT WIND”

__________________

An Abstract of an Essay

Presented to the Faculty of the

Moores School of Music

Kathrine G. McGovern College of the Arts

University of Houston

__________________

In Partial Fulfillment

Of the Requirements for the Degree of

Doctor of Musical Arts

__________________

by

Amanda Hughes

May 2019
Abstract

This study explores narrative implications in Medtner’s Sonata in E Minor, op.

25, no. 2, “Night Wind,” utilizing detailed structural analysis and semiotic theory to

demonstrate how musical meaning surfaces in Medtner’s compositional choices. The

structural analysis draws on James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy’s Sonata Theory, which

distinguishes various types of organizational strategies found within Classical sonata

forms. The theory also considers the importance of key relationships, modes, and other

features for interpreting narrative and expressive meaning within a sonata. This

methodology is supported by work of Andrew Davis and Michael Klein, who adapt

Sonata Theory to the Romantic sonata. The semiotic analysis draws primarily on work of

Robert Hatten. Ultimately, this study seeks to bring awareness to Medtner’s rich and

expansive repertoire; the study will aid performers by illustrating how Medtner handles

the sonata form and uses musical topics and other features for expressive meaning in op.

25, no. 2.

The opening section discusses my methodology and provides a review of current

literature. The sections of the essay that follow are dedicated to the two parts—which I

will call two movements—of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2. The analysis shows similarities

between the compositional techniques used by Medtner and the German Romantic

composers Brahms and Schumann. The final section of the essay illustrates how

Medtner’s sonata makes intertextual references to music of Franz Liszt, thus providing a

framework for understanding themes that appear within op. 25, no. 2. Medtner’s use of

bell tones, hymn topics, plagal cadences—and the intertexts with Liszt’s works,

v
especially those relating to the story of Faust—ultimately suggest the presence of

religious undertones in the work.

vi
Acknowledgments

I would like to give special thanks to my committee chair, Dr. Andrew Davis, for

all of the time he has spent answering my questions, advising my research and writing,

and for introducing me to Sonata Theory. I would also like to give thanks to the other

members of my committee, Dr. Paul Bertagnolli, Prof. Nancy Weems, and Dr. Tali

Morgulis for their work and guidance. I owe my deepest gratitude to Prof. Abbey Simon

for years of mentorship and commitment to shaping me into a better pianist and musician.

I also owe gratitude to my family members, especially my mother and husband, who have

encouraged and supported me throughout the years.

vii
Table of Contents

Abstract ................................................................................................................................v

Acknowledgements ........................................................................................................... vii

List of Figures .................................................................................................................... ix

List of Musical Examples ....................................................................................................x

Introduction ..........................................................................................................................1

Methodology ............................................................................................................2

Sonata in E Minor, op. 25, no. 2: sonata form .....................................................................7

Introduction and Coda............................................................................................22

Sonata in E Minor, op. 25, no. 2: mvt. ii............................................................................30

Intertextuality .........................................................................................................32

Conclusion .........................................................................................................................39

Bibliography ......................................................................................................................41

viii
List of Figures

1. Poem, “Night Wind,” by Fyodor Tyutchev .........................................................................9

2. Formal diagram of sonata form..........................................................................................11

3. Theme and variations in op. 25, no. 2, mvt. ii ...................................................................31

ix
List of Musical Examples

1. Rupture in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i...........................................................................17

2. PAC EEC in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i .......................................................................19

3. F-minor bell tones in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i, coda ................................................21

4. Devil’s motives in Liszt and Medtner ................................................................................34

5. Lyrical themes in Liszt and Medtner .................................................................................35

6. Medtner, intertext with Liszt..............................................................................................36

7. Medtner, intertext with Liszt, Mephisto Waltz No. 1 ........................................................37

x
A NARRATIVE STUDY OF NIKOLAI MEDTNER’S SONATA IN E MINOR, OP. 25,
NO. 2, “NIGHT WIND”

Introduction

Born in January of 1880, Russian composer and concert pianist Nikolai Medtner

contributed a substantial amount of repertoire to the piano literature. A contemporary of

Sergei Rachmaninoff and Alexander Scriabin, Medtner employed a compositional style

representative of the late Romantic Russian idiom, especially in its combination of

aspects of Russian folk traditions and European classicism. Nicknamed the “Russian

Brahms,”1 Medtner’s music exhibits great influence from the German composers

Johannes Brahms and Robert Schumann through his use of traditional forms, thick

orchestral textures, rhythmic complexity, and motivic development. The German

influence in Medtner’s music may be attributed to his German heritage along with the

time he spent living in Berlin. The Medtner family had both German and Danish roots,

but at the time of Medtner’s birth the family had lived in Russia for two generations and

assimilated with Russian culture. Medtner and his wife left Russia in 1921, after the

Russian Revolution, and Berlin was the first place they moved before embarking to Paris

and later settling in London. Although Medtner’s career did not flourish in Germany,

aspects of the German Classical and Romantic musical traditions appear to play a large

role in his compositional style.2 Like the sonatas of the German Classical and Romantic

composers, a large number of Medtner’s sonatas tend to be expansive works in a serious

1
Barrie Martyn, Nicolas Medtner: His Life and Music (Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1995), xi. For the
purpose of greater authenticity, I will refer to the composer by his Russian first name, Nikolai, as opposed
to the anglicized version used by Martyn.

2
Barrie Martyn, “Medtner Nicolas,” in Grove Music Online (Oxford Music Online),
https://doi.org/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.article.18517 (accessed February 18th, 2019).

1
vein. These features can be observed in Medtner’s first sonata, the Sonata in F Minor, op.

5, which spans four movements, maintains a very traditional formal scheme, and uses

themes that largely resemble and paraphrase themes from Schumann’s Grand Sonata in F

Minor, op. 14. However, the Russian nationalistic element still features prominently

throughout his works. Although Medtner never directly quotes Russian folk tunes, his

melodies and use of the modes evoke the tunes and rhythms present in Russian folk

music. Medtner also makes many references to bell tones, which were significant in the

Russian Orthodox tradition.

This essay explores narrative implications in Medtner’s Sonata in E Minor, op.

25, no. 2, “Night Wind.” A detailed structural analysis of the sonata will demonstrate that

musical meaning surfaces as a result of many of Medtner’s compositional choices. In

addition, this essay draws on the theories of James Hepokoski, Warren Darcy, Andrew

Davis, Robert Hatten, Peter Smith, and Michael Klein. Hepokoski and Darcy’s Sonata

Theory will help to clarify the formal structure, while Davis’s studies provide a basis for

adapting these theories to the Romantic sonata. Smith’s writings will reveal the

similarities of technique between Medtner and Brahms. Klein’s analysis of Chopin’s First

Ballade sets the standard for understanding Medtner’s narrative gestures. Finally,

Hatten’s theories of musical semiotics will shed light on approaches to interpreting

signified meaning in Medtner’s sonata.

Methodology

Sonata form underwent many transformations between the eighteenth and

nineteenth centuries. Classical composers sought to preserve established structural

2
boundaries in their sonatas through harmony, melody, and form. Thus, the typical

Classical sonata followed a predetermined set of norms concerning key areas and the

treatment of themes. In the Romantic era, composers tested the limits of these boundaries

by extending the norms, and thus extending the number of possible expressive outcomes

within the work. Although Romantic composers maintained the forms and key areas of

the Classical period, they allowed for a wider variety of choices in handling these aspects

of the sonata. This wider array of choices produced a bolder, intensified expressive

character and a broader range of potential narrative outcomes in the piece.

These choices made by the Romantic composers can be interpreted with the help

of a number of modern theories of musical meaning. Music theorists such as Robert

Hatten have observed the significance of cultural icons as symbols that signify meaning.

For example, a four-voice chorale in a major mode resembles a hymn, and the appearance

of the resulting “hymn topic” in a piece of music such as a sonata might create for some

listeners an allusion to prayer or salvation. Although this may or may not reflect the

composer’s intentions, it is the listeners in such circumstances who ultimately provide

their own interpretative understanding of the musical material. Nevertheless, because the

composer made a conscious choice to adopt such symbols when writing the music, one

can understand that the signified meaning of the passage is most likely not mere

coincidence. Therefore, the use of certain gestures evokes feelings or prompts

interpretations, all of which are grounded in historical and cultural context; at the very

least, such gestures allow for possible explanations regarding the plausibility of specific

compositional choices.

3
James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy expand upon such theories in detail, linking

them to historical theories of sonata form, in their book Elements of Sonata Theory:

Norms, Types, and Deformations in the Late-Eighteenth-Century Sonata.3 Hepokoski and

Darcy provide clear and precise methods for defining five standard sonata types. Within

each type, a structured formal plan emerges as normative, encompassing expected sonata

characteristics and behaviors, and allowing ample room for commonly accepted

variances. The authors label the choices and alternatives that the composer might choose

within the sonata according to a hierarchical series of “default” levels, according to the

frequency of the appearance of such choices in the repertoire. Any variance in these

choices, or any choice that a composer makes that falls outside of these normative sonata

expectations, creates what Hepokoski and Darcy call a “deformation.” Deformations

cause the music to be expressively marked,4 in the sense that they invite or require

interpretation, because they indicate a deliberate choice on the part of the composer to

deviate from the established norms.

Whereas Hepokoski and Darcy’s theory applies to the Classical sonata, music

theorists such as Andrew Davis and Warren Darcy himself have adapted Sonata Theory

to the Romantic sonata. Throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, sonata form

continued to evolve by becoming more expansive, through longer phrases, expansion of

thematic areas, longer development sections, a wider variety of keys and key

relationships, greater and more obvious overlap between themes and transitions, and

3
James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy, Sonata Theory: Norms, Types, and Deformations in the
Late-Eighteenth-Century Sonata (Oxford: Oxford University Press, Inc., 2006).

4
Robert Hatten, Musical Meaning in Beethoven: Markedness, Correlation, and Interpretation
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), 11.

4
more frequent use of introductions, codas, and interpolated spaces of the kind that were

already being introduced in Beethoven’s sonatas. The addition of these newer elements

calls for a different approach to understanding norms, deformations, and narrative

implications present in these Romantic sonatas. I will draw on such expansions of Sonata

Theory in my analysis of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2.

Robert Hatten outlines the importance of what linguistic theorists call “binary

oppositions”5 in creating musical meaning. One such opposition exists in the form of

major versus minor keys, which typically signify the struggle between the tragic and the

ideal, or the triumphant. Hatten makes clear that minor keys have no necessary link on

their own to tragedy per se, but rather that it is the listeners who creates this correlation

by drawing on a cultural and historical context that allows them to understand major and

minor as in binary opposition to one another. One is happy, the other is sad; one is

triumphant, the other is tragic; and so on and so forth.6 Hepokoski and Darcy extend this

to the theory of the sonata: according to Sonata Theory, sonatas in the minor mode

contain an extra sense of expressive burden, as a result of the negative associations of the

minor mode. Although pieces in minor keys can be light and jubilant, the minor mode is

rarely used this way in the Romantic period. Minor-mode sonatas in the Romantic era

often signify darkness, perhaps coupled with a lack of directional clarity in their forms.

Hepokoski and Darcy state that the only escape from the oppressive minor mode comes

from a shift to the tonic major at the end of a sonata movement. The composer may also

choose to modulate to the relative major in the sonata’s second theme in order to allow a

5
Hatten, Musical Meaning in Beethoven, 9-10.

6
Hatten, Musical Meaning in Beethoven, 10.

5
momentary glimpse of joy or hope. In this sense, the key of the second theme in both the

exposition and recapitulation of a minor-mode sonata plays a very important role in

understanding the narrative implications of the work.7 As I will show presently, these

points are relevant for understanding Medtner’s Sonata, op. 25, no. 2, which is in the key

of E minor.

By combining the analysis of form in music, including Sonata Theory, with

theories of musical meaning, an understanding of musical narrative becomes possible.

Although instrumental music of course remains free of actual words or actors, the

composer’s choice of key, the character or topics of the themes themselves, and the

formal construction of the sonata result in an overall expressive trajectory for a particular

work. Michael Klein provides a good example of this kind of narrative analysis in his

interpretation of Chopin’s First Ballade. Klein explains how certain gestures in that piece

may be understood, for example, as evoking the past tense, triumph, and even a sense of

leaving the narrative space entirely. Ultimately, the interpretations made from certain of

the musical clues that Klein uncovers serve as tools for the performer in achieving a

better sense of musical awareness and sensitivity in performance. Greater sophistication

in performance yields improved musical communication and optimizes the aesthetic

experience of both listeners and performers.8

Obvious programmatic elements indeed feature prominently throughout all of

Medtner’s sonatas. Medtner frequently uses gestures that depict images, from fast

7
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 306.

8
Michael Klein, “Chopin's Fourth Ballade as Musical Narrative,” Music Theory Spectrum 26, no.
1 (2004): 23-56.

6
sixteenth notes illustrating the wind, to repeated chiming chords in the high and low

registers to imitate bells, to multi-voice hymn textures to connote prayer and reflection.

Medtner, furthermore, provides descriptive titles to many of his works, such as the

Sonata Skazka, “The Fairy Tales,” or the Sonata Reminiscenza, “Reminiscing.” Yet,

despite such practices, Medtner asserts in his book, The Muse and the Fashion: being a

defence of the foundations of the art of music, that he believed that symbolism in music

could only be developed organically, and that attempting to deliberately evoke it could

only be seen as pretense.9 A traditionalist, Medtner also believed that certain foundations

of music, such as tonality, could not be abandoned and that without imitation of the

human voice, or song, there could be no narrative.10

Sonata in E Minor, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i: sonata form

The “Night Wind” Sonata remains one of Medtner’s largest and most technically

challenging works. Composed between 1910 and 1911, the sonata is a good example of

Medtner’s compositional style in his middle years, which bridges the gap between a more

traditional use of form and key relationships in his early works and the more modern

formal-tonal language of his later works. Medtner dedicated the piece to Rachmaninoff,

who remained one of Medtner’s closest colleagues and advocates in the musical world.

The sonata lasts 35 minutes in performance and consists of two large sections, which I

will refer to as two “movements” despite a lack of formal separation into movements in

9
Nikolai Medtner, The Muse and the Fashion: Being a Defence of the Foundations of the Art of
Music, trans. Alfred J Swan (Haverford: Haverford College Bookstore, 1951), 137.

10
Medtner, The Muse and the Fashion, 146.

7
the score: first a sonata form, followed by, second, an energetic theme and variations that

develop material from a motive found in the introduction and in the second theme of the

foregoing sonata.

The sonata movement begins with a haunting, slow introduction that forecasts the

dark and turbulent piece that is about to unfold. The melancholy nature of the piece is

apparent from the first measure of the introduction, which features a declamatory motive

of a descending minor third followed by a plodding, triplet ostinato bass line that

accompanies a somber, lyrical melody. The introduction introduces other important

motivic ideas as well, including bell tones that appear in the high register of the piano and

that return throughout the piece. The introduction’s main theme itself also returns several

times throughout the work, reinforcing that theme’s tragic implications throughout the

sonata.

In terms of its overall expressive contour, the piece has a dark, menacing,

unyielding quality. This is especially true of its minor-mode sections, which contrast

markedly with the major-mode sections and their prevailing siciliano-style dance

themes—which historically carry pastoral connotations and which function here to

provide temporary hope within an otherwise bleak narrative trajectory. As my analysis

will show, Medtner’s sequence of key areas, especially in the sonata movement, also has

significant expressive implications and, indeed, is largely responsible for the work’s

narrative profile. The consistent return of the theme from the slow introduction,

furthermore, drives the work deeper into tragedy and ultimately keeps the sonata from

reaching its implied expressive goal of freeing itself from the minor and establishing the

major mode for any consistent length of time.

8
The title of the sonata, “Night Wind” comes from Fyodor Tyutchev’s 1832 poem

“Of what do you howl, night wind...?” (see Figure 1), which Medtner provides in its

entirety as an epigraph in the score.11 Medtner’s inclusion of Tyutchev’s poem sheds light

on his intentions regarding many of the programmatic features present in the sonata. The

poem, which is in two stanzas, adopts the perspective of a narrator asking questions and

reflecting on a chaos that is forming. The first stanza focuses on the narrator’s search to

understand the frenzied and sad complaint of the howling wind; the second stanza depicts

the narrator pleading for the wind to contain its fearful song and not to wake the chaos

Figure 1: Poem, “Night Wind,” by Fyodor Tyutchev

11
Martyn, Nicolas Medtner, 64.

9
that stirs underneath the surface.12 Barrie Martyn interprets this poem as an observation

of the battle between the cosmos and underlying chaos present within the human soul.13

The two stanzas appear to correlate with the two movements of op. 25, no. 2, a structural

correlation that may be confirmed by at least two instances in which Medtner revealed

via markings in the original manuscript that he was thinking of his music as having

explicit narrative functions. Medtner writes, for example, the word “Slushat!” (“Listen!”)

under each statement of the descending minor third motive in the opening measure; and,

at a climactic moment in m. 237 in the second movement, he writes “From here there is a

distant prospect.”14 These markings do not correlate literally to the poem’s actual text,

but they may be interpreted as an indication of a programmatic conception of the opening

motive—which itself may signal a call to attention before the story is told. They may,

furthermore, confirm a structural connection between the piece’s second movement and

the poem’s second stanza. As I will show in my analysis, Medtner uses the form and key

areas to emphasize these elements, and the poem may have implications for how one

understands the larger structure of Medtner’s piece.

Considering now the formal design of the sonata form, or first movement, the

form fits Hepokoski and Darcy’s definition of a Type 3 sonata (see Figure 2 for a formal

diagram of the first movement). A Type 3 sonata is defined by having three more or less

complete statements, or “rotations,” of an ordered sequence of zones or spaces known as

the primary theme, or P; transition, or TR; secondary theme, or S; and closing section, or

12
Fyodor Tyutchev, “Of What Do You Howl, Night Wind…?,” Complete Poems by Tyutchev in
an English Translation by F. Jude, http://libm.ru/tutchew/english.html (accessed March 9, 2019).

13
Martyn, Nicolas Medtner, 65.

14
Martyn, Nicolas Medtner, 67.

10
C. A “medial caesura”—a pause or break—normally occurs at the end of the TR and

before the S; a perfect authentic cadence normally occurs at the end of the S, where it is

known either as the “Essential Expositional Closure,” or EEC, in the exposition, or

“Essential Structural Closure,” or ESC, in the recapitulation. The exposition comprises

the first rotation of the four zones, P—TR—S—C; the development comprises the

Figure 2: Formal map of sonata form

Exposition

Intro P0 P TR MC’ S1.1 S1.2 S1.1 EEC C

m.1---37 m.38-39 m.40--54 m.55---75 m.76---79 m. 80-----93 m. 94----107 m. 108---123 m. 125--128 m.129--134

Development

Dominant Lock

m. 135 -------------------------------------m.169-----------------------------176

Recapitulation

P0 P TR MC-Effect S1.1 S. 1.2 S1.1 ESC C

m. 177-178 m. 179----192 m.193 --197 m. 198--199 m.200--207 m. 208---219 m.220---234 m. 235-- 237 m.239--246

Coda

Intro to second movement

m.246 ---------------------------------------------------274 m. 275---------------------283

second, and the recapitulation the third.15 The Type 3 sonata is thus the form that we

know today as the most standard iteration of the sonata form. Within a typical Classical

15
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 378.

11
Type 3 sonata, the TR will often modulate to a closely related key: the key of the

dominant in major-mode sonatas, or the key of the relative major or minor dominant in

minor-mode sonatas. The S theme will then be stated in this new key in the exposition,

but will normally be stated in the tonic in the recapitulation. As minor-mode sonatas

became more appealing to romantic composers, the choice to state the recapitulatory S in

the major tonic rather than the minor tonic became increasingly important in an

expressive sense due to the inherently troubled nature of the minor mode and the

Romantic preference for signifying the overcoming of strife in the expressive trajectory

of the work. Due to the rotational and thus predictable nature of the sonata form, the

exclusion or expansion of any these four main zones, P, TR, S, and C, or the choice to

use a non-normative key in one or another of the zones, creates expressive meaning and

invites interpretation.

In any sonata, and especially in minor-mode sonatas and Romantic sonatas, the S

theme plays an especially important narrative role, in part because of its normative

function as the first significant key change and change in character in the form.

Hepokoski and Darcy describe the narrative meaning of the S theme as suggesting and

predicting the formal and expressive outcome of the sonata itself, in the sense that the

key, and mode, of the S predicts the key and mode in which the EEC will occur in the

exposition or the ESC will occur in the recapitulation. Thus, the choice of the key of S in

both exposition and recapitulation bears heavily on the narrative trajectory of the entire

work.

In minor-mode sonatas, the S theme is the part of the sonata that has the potential

to alleviate the sonata’s tragic implications. In eighteenth-century minor-mode sonatas,

12
composers normally chose one of two options in the sonata exposition: to present S in the

relative major, indicating a move to a more positive or “idealized state,” or to present S in

the minor dominant, suggesting a darker, more negative trajectory in the narrative. The S

theme, furthermore, historically serves as a more introspective contrast to the normally

energetic P theme. This contrast is especially heightened in minor-mode sonatas, where

the opposition of major and minor has the potential to signify expressive oppositions such

as joy and despair, or light and darkness. Elements of eighteenth-century sonata practice

were retained in Romantic sonatas, but the duality between what became in the Romantic

period a normally turbulent P theme and a more introspective, pastoral, lyrical S, became

even more pronounced. Andrew Davis has argued that this opposition became so critical

to the Romantic aesthetic that it became the default, normative approach to the sonata

form in the Romantic era. Peter Smith and Robert Hatten have both also noted the

potential heroic aspects of this P-to-S opposition, which has the potential to signify the

struggle of an implied protagonist overcoming adversity—an expressive topic that gained

popularity in the world of Romantic sensibilities.16

Medtner’s treatment of the S theme is significant in understanding the narrative

implications of his sonata op. 25, no. 2. In this piece, there are multiple S themes—two of

them to be exact—which together serve both as an antithesis to the menacing P and

provide the first glimpse of possible salvation. However, any of the hopeful or salvational

qualities these themes possess are undermined by their tonality and by the order of their

presentation. The first S theme, or S1.1, appears at m. 80, with an expressive marking of

tranquillo. The theme begins very softly, in the style of a hymn, and transitions within a

16
Andrew Davis, Sonata Fragments (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2017), 132.

13
few measures into a scherzando, siciliano dance topic. Although the narrative appears

more jubilant, there are underlying expressive issues, due to the key and the lack of

stability in the theme. Here, S appears to be in the key of D major, rather than the first-

level default choices of G major (the relative major) or B minor (the minor dominant).

Note, however, that D major is the relative major of the minor dominant, B minor.

Whereas a move to the minor mode has been denied, Medtner has also eluded B minor

and journeyed instead to its relative major, D major, which we might perhaps interpret as

a gesture of attempted hope. This is an expressive strategy that appears to be borrowed

from Brahms, who uses a similar key relationship in his Sonata in F-Sharp Minor, op. 2,

using E major for S and implying, like Medtner, an idealized but ultimately flawed

version of “hope” for the sonata. Nevertheless, as hopeful as it might be, the key of S in

both instances, in Brahms and Medtner, is flawed, in the sense that it is still a choice that

is staged expressively as the “wrong key.” Medtner’s highly chromatic harmonic

language, reinforced by the chromatic linear passing tones that appear intermittently in

each voice, furthermore, obscures the tonality and creates a feeling of instability that

seems to support this interpretation by suggesting that any sense of contentment and

relief—which would perhaps be signaled by tonal clarity or achievement of a tonal

goal—may still be out of reach.

A second S theme, or S1.2, appears at m. 96. This time the material is far more

stable and firmly in the key of A Major—the major subdominant. This second S uses

motivic elements drawn from P, now rendered in a much more positive major mode.

Charles Rosen has made a correlation that links dominant and subdominant with active

and passive expressive roles, and has also made the case that, in a narrative sense, the

14
dominant can signify a move to the future while the subdominant can signify a shift to the

past.17 Michael Klein extends this expressive correlation in his reading of Chopin’s

Ballades, in which Chopin commonly restates themes in the subdominant in order to

represent what Klein argues should be understood as a “looking backward” or a literary

“past tense.”18 Thus, the choice of the subdominant major in Medtner’s sonata may

represent an “idealized past,” perhaps longed for but as yet out of reach. Note as well that

in m. 96, Medtner provides the marking Giocondamente, meaning “joyfully” or

“contented,” where the joyful nature of this theme, along with its characteristic

similarities to the P theme, seems to signify that this second S theme is where the sonata

“wishes to be.” However, the theme’s stability is quickly disturbed when the final module

in the phrase, m. 102, becomes increasingly chromatic and disjointed, and the approach

to the final cadence is interrupted by a fully-diminished seventh chord. As if waking up

from a dream, the first S theme reappears at m. 108—a highly unusual and deformational

gesture, in that the expressively flawed S1.1 was thought to be abandoned for the more

stable and contented S1.2—and returns to the key of D Major before reaching the

Essential Expositional Closure, or EEC, in m. 123.

Further intrigue manifests in the way Medtner handles both of the S themes in the

recapitulation. Rather than remaining in the tonic, as would be normative in a sonata,

S1.1 returns in the recapitulation in the key of G major, the relative major—which is, of

course, the normative key choice for S in the exposition, not in the recapitulation.

However, despite this gesture being one of the most expressively positive or “hopeful”

17
Charles Rosen, The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven (New York: W. W. Norton
& Company, Inc., 1997), 383.

18
Klein, “Chopin’s Fourth Ballade as Musical Narrative,” 35-39.

15
gestures Medtner could have produced—especially in the wake of the expositional key

choices and the avoidance of G major in the exposition—the appearance of the relative

major in the recapitulation is a highly unusual move and thus expressively marked. This

appearance of the relative major in the recapitulation may be understood as representing

what “might have been,” in that now, in the recapitulation, it is too late for the

hopefulness of the relative major; the opportunity for what the relative major might

signify has passed.

Medtner’s use of the fully-diminished seventh chords (mm. 107 and 221) to

interrupt and redirect the musical form seems to be a practice that appears in other

Romantic sonatas (see Example 1). Andrew Davis, in his article “Chopin and the

Romantic Sonata: The First Movement of Op. 58,”19 observes Chopin using the fully-

diminished seventh chord in a similar manner in his Sonata in B Minor, op. 58. Chopin

uses the chord in multiple places within op. 58: first, in m. 19, in the TR, at a moment in

which the TR appears to be setting up a dominant prolongation as part of the drive

towards the MC, the fully-diminished seventh instead triggers a digression to a ten-

measure, highly chromatic passage; second, in the S-zone, at m. 65, where in a similar

fashion a fully-diminished seventh triggers a digression that deflects the drive toward the

EEC. In both cases, the fully-diminished seventh shares no common tones or key

relationships with the surrounding harmonies and ultimately functions to shatter the

forward motion of the form and diverts it away from a forthcoming, expected resolution

or point of structural articulation. In both cases, the musical modules that follow this

19
Andrew Davis, “Chopin and the Romantic Sonata: The First Movement of Op. 58,” Music
Theory Spectrum 36, no. 2 (2014): 270-94.

16
interruption—or rupture, in the language of Davis20—function as interpolated spaces that

can be interpreted as lying outside the sonata’s temporal plane of action.

Other similarities between Chopin’s op. 58 and Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 appear in

Chopin’s TR and in Medtner’s S1.2. Right before the fully-diminished seventh ruptures

in mm. 107 and 221 of the Medtner, in both the exposition and recapitulation, the piece

arrives on a climactic major 6/4 chord in a tonally distant key—A-flat Major in the

Example 1: Rupture in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i

exposition, B-flat Major in the recapitulation—both of them a half step below the key of

S1.2. Hatten refers to such a harmonic phenomenon as an “arrival 6/4” or “salvation

20
Davis, “Chopin and the Romantic Sonata,” 276.

17
6/4”21: a 6/4 chord that is rhythmically, rhetorically, or harmonically emphasized and, as

such, one that signifies a positive turn in the narrative trajectory. However, in both the

Chopin and the Medtner, the salvation 6/4 is immediately deflected by the rupture and

subsequently turned away from any sense of resolution.

Perhaps the most significant appearance of the salvation 6/4 chord in Medtner’s

sonata is in the second statement of S1.1, in m. 118, before the final drive to the EEC.

Here, the lyrical, giocondamente statement of the S.1.2 melody returns, but this time in a

bold D major with a thick harmonic texture. The feeling is one of great arrival, similar to

what Klein finds in the Chopin Ballades before the moment of culmination known as an

apotheosis.22 Although another rupture happens immediately afterwards, a final PAC in

D Major in m. 123 expressively captures and solidifies the major mode. Despite the

apparent strength of this PAC, Medtner undercuts its finality by adding Gs in the final

arpeggio leading up to the tonic D in the upper register (see Example 2). The outline of

subdominant harmony here not only creates a plagal effect and alludes to possible

religious undertones, but the D in the bass against the Gs in the upper voices weakens the

finality of the PAC—lending the sense of another 6/4 chord, suggesting that a true arrival

has not yet happened after all.

Although P and TR materials were traditionally the most common choices for the

material in development sections of a sonata form, S and C themes do appear in

development sections as well—however the norm is that they rarely dominate the

development rhetoric. Hepokoski suggests that due to the S theme’s status as more

21
Hatten, Interpreting Musical Gestures, 24.

22
Klein, “Chopin's Fourth Ballade as Musical Narrative,” 6.

18
introspective, a development dominated by S signifies a search for a more stable

resolution. In Medtner’s sonata, the development opens with an expressively marked

reference to S1.1 material. This is another gesture apparently borrowed from the

Romantic period: Brahms and Schumann frequently used the same procedure in their

developments, lingering on the S theme before delving into P material. Medtner’s P

theme eventually arrives, in a minor mode, at m. 144, but even then P is immediately

interrupted at mm. 160 and 169 with both the first and second S themes. Not only does

each theme appear to fight for its right to be heard, but each statement also suggests a

Example 2: PAC EEC in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i

different force fighting to dominate the outcome of the sonata. The P theme represents

the initial storm and struggle of the work, while the siciliano S, brought back here in a

19
forte F minor that contrasts markedly with its earlier pastoral qualities, suggests that even

the idyllic state that it signified earlier is unraveling. However, at m. 169, the second S

interrupts in a bright A major once again, shining hope on the movement’s apparent

tragic turn. But even this statement of S1.2 quickly fades away into a long dominant

preparation, at m. 171, that leads back to turbulent P rhetoric.

The significance of Medtner’s choice of F minor for the developmental statement

of S1.1 becomes clearer in the coda. Although S1.2 appears in the dominant major in m.

210, hinting at a move back to the tonic E minor in the closing section, Medtner chooses

to state the reappearance of S1.1 material at m. 222 in E-flat Major, a half-step below the

tonic and thus even further away from the tonal goal of the recapitulation. As if a sudden

force interrupted, at m. 224 the key shifts back up to E major a few measures before the

climactic approach to the final PAC, achieving the ESC at m. 237. The closing material

that follows continues in the tonic major, which seems to suggest a positive outcome to

the recapitulation. However, in m. 247, an abrupt interpolation of bell tones in F minor

interrupts the seemingly triumphant ending (see Example 3). The bell tones mark, within

the space of the coda, the return of the theme from the slow introduction, in the key of F

minor, signifying that negative forces are still at work in the narrative.

20
Example 3: F-minor bell tones in Medtner, op. 25, no. 2, mvt. i, coda

F minor is an important key in Medtner’s compositional output. He frequently

uses this key in several of his darker, more foreboding works—including his first sonata,

op. 5, which remains in the minor mode for much of the work, and his penultimate

sonata, op. 53, no. 2, which he called the Sonata Minacciosa, or the “Menacing Sonata.”

The choice of F minor heightens the tragedy already present in the topical themes that

dominate these works. In op. 25, no. 2, the coda slides back into E minor in m. 262, and,

in m. 276, arrives at a half cadence on an altered dominant (with a flat 5th), still allowing

the F—the menacing tone—to resound through the chord. The music continues with

gestures that suggest the rhetoric of an introduction, this time with a new theme

appearing in fragments and hinting at the material to follow.

21
Several treatises have addressed how the key of a piece of music impacts the

perceived characteristics and emotions present within the work. Sources on the emotional

properties of music date back to the ancient Greeks and the doctrine of ethos, and appear

through the Baroque era, during the period in which the modern concept of tonality began

to take shape, and beyond. Rita Steblin, in her book, A History of Key Characteristics in

the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries, provides an extensive catalogue of such

writings, topics of which range from the affects of the modes in the Medieval-

Renaissance era to key characteristics in the Romantic era. Within these historical

writings, a common expressive theme emerges in the case of each key and the

characteristics it often signifies. These sources describe the key of F minor as deeply sad,

lugubrious, and indicative of extreme suffering, anxiety, or loss.23 Not only do these

qualities pervade the F-minor theme of Medtner’s introduction, but even deeper sorrow

emerges in m. 254, where Medtner briefly modulates to A-flat minor—considered by the

historical sources to be the key of ultimate sorrow24—for seven measures, before

returning to E minor. As will be discussed later in this essay, these characteristics play an

important role in understanding the narrative implications present in op. 25, no. 2.

Introduction and Coda

Strong narrative implications surface in the coda’s sudden shift back to the music

of the introduction. Hepokoski and Darcy describe both the introduction and coda in

23
Rita Steblin, A History of Key Characteristics in the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries
(Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2002), 262-66.

24
Steblin, A History of Key Characteristics, 280.

22
sonata form as “parageneric spaces,” meaning that they exist outside of the sonata-space

proper. Hepokoski and Darcy note that the original purpose of the introduction was often

to call the audience to attention; as the slow introduction started to appear more

frequently in works of Mozart and Haydn, it came to signify a sense of grandeur and

seriousness in the work. Particularly evident in the works of Beethoven, the slow

introduction started to become more substantial in length, and it played a more important

role in the articulation of the form. A good example of this is Beethoven’s Sonata No. 8

in C minor, op. 13, “Pathetique,” in which the music of the slow introduction returns

before the development section and again at the end of the piece. Hepokoski and Darcy

describe the slow, lyrical, introduction, particularly in the minor mode, as a way to set a

serious tone for what will unfold in the body of the movement. In many cases, the

introduction may be understood as signifying the voice of an implied narrator—often best

understood to be the composer himself—telling a story and reflecting on the composition

that is about to ensue.25

Hatten enhances this interpretive approach in his theory of the “shifts of level of

discourse.”26 Hatten describes such shifts as abrupt changes in the expressive content of

the music, which have the effect of pitting what the Greeks knew as the “mimetic”

against the “diegetic,” or the “dramatic” against the “lyrical.”27 Shifts of level of

discourse may be indicated by sudden ruptures or interpolations of new material,

unexpected harmonic progressions or key changes, or changes in texture, style, or

25
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 283.

26
Robert Hatten, “On Narrativity in Music: Expressive Genres and Levels of Discourse in
Beethoven,” Indiana Theory Review 12 (1991): 75–98.

27
Klein, “Chopin’s Fourth Ballade as Musical Narrative,” 5.

23
dynamic markings—any of which have the effect of interrupting the temporal flow of the

sonata and directing it outside of the primary temporal plane of action. Such sudden shifts

may, furthermore, signify the presence of an agency outside the body of the work, or may

represent a specific form of reflective commentary divorced from the main sonata

narrative itself. In this sense, the introduction and coda themselves can also signify shifts

in level of discourse, effectively confirming their position as outside the sonata space

entirely.

Brahms uses the introduction very much in this fashion. In his book Sonata

Fragments,28 Andrew Davis observes the implied presence of a diegetic, narrating voice

that tells a story in Brahms’s Sonata in F-sharp Minor, op. 2, signified in Brahms’s use of

a slow introduction. Brahms starts the introduction of op. 2 in A Major, rather than the

key of the tonic, F-sharp minor, in which the main sonata form exists (and which

commences at the P theme). This procedure—especially the use of the relative major, A

major—may suggest a yearning for an idealized past on the part of the narrator, which is

subsequently suppressed in the sonata’s darker and more turbulent exposition. A similar

usage appears in the slow introduction of Schumann’s Sonata in F-sharp Minor, op. 11,

which opens with a declamatory yet melancholy theme in the key of F-sharp minor

before briefly moving to a hopeful passage in the relative major. Just as in Medtner’s

sonata, op. 25, no. 2, the lyrical introduction of Schumann’s op. 11 returns in other

28
Andrew Davis, Sonata Fragments: Romantic Narratives in Chopin, Schumann, and Brahms
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2017), 67-78.

24
sections of the piece, signifying the voice of the narrator speaking from outside the sonata

space.29

The introduction in Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 bears a striking resemblance to these

examples. Medtner begins with a declamatory motive of the descending minor third,

calling the listener to attention, and continues with a somber melody juxtaposed against a

triplet ostinato accompaniment. This initiatory gesture has the effect of being extremely

unsettling and the descending chromatic line present in the bass can be understood as

driving the music downward, deep into tragedy. However, after dropping to a low A in

the bass in m. 10, there is a change in the melodic content and the chromatic bass line

begins to ascend. At m. 14, Medtner briefly outlines the relative major, and the melody

begins to become more hopeful before climbing back up to the tonic minor.

There are other factors present in the introduction of op. 25, no. 2 that support the

interpretation of this space as being outside of the sonata’s primary temporal plane. For

example, the opening measure of the piece begins in 5/4 meter, but immediately shifts to

4/4 in the second measure. At m. 34, where the bell tones appear, the meter returns to 5/4

and the music becomes more harmonically stable before introducing a restatement of the

motive of the descending minor third in m. 38. The similar motivic content and tonal

stability of mm. 1 and 38 suggest that these two measures could have been adjacent to

one another—perhaps written consecutively, with no intervening material. This, in turn,

suggests that the music that appears from mm. 2–33 may be understood as an interpolated

space, lying, again, outside the sonata’s primary plane of action.

29
Davis, Sonata Fragments, 168.

25
Medtner’s introduction and coda both play a significant role in the sonata

narrative. Not only does the introduction’s material appear within the coda space, but the

introduction is repeated and referenced regularly throughout the piece’s second

movement. Hepokoski and Darcy mention that the appearance of introductory material in

the coda was a notable deformation in the Classical style, one that was largely unheard of

until the Romantic period. Good Romantic-era examples include Schubert’s Symphony

no. 9, “Unfinished,” and Mendelssohn’s Overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Similarly, Brahms also brings back material of the slow introduction in the coda of op. 2.

Hepokoski calls these examples of an “introduction-coda frame,”30 noting that when such

a frame is present, the introduction and coda function on a higher plane than that of the

interior of the sonata. The introduction forecasts the story, whereas the sonata itself

expresses the event that were foretold.31

Further consideration is needed to interpret where Medtner’s coda ends as well as

the formal and narrative functions of the piece’s second half—the section that I am

calling a “second movement.” Is the presto theme that appears at m. 285 really the

beginning of a whole new movement, or does it initiate one large coda that occupies more

than half of what we should understand as a single sonata movement? Note that neither

Medtner’s manuscript nor any published edition of the score sets apart this second half of

the piece as a separate movement. Many commentators have addressed the issue of codas

that are relatively long and seem to have a formal and expressive trajectory all their own.

Expansive codas that essentially take on their own form appear in several of Beethoven’s

30
James Hepokoski, “Framing Till Eulenspiegel,” 19th-Century Music 30, no. 1 (2006): 38.

31
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 286.

26
larger works. One of the most notable examples is the coda in the first movement of

Symphony no. 3 in E-flat Major, “Eroica,” which is both long and multi-sectional. This

coda embodies one of the earliest manifestations of the Romantic heroic affect, and it

develops themes texturally and dynamically such that it reaches a point of great

culmination or apotheosis. Joseph Kerman has asserted that it is not appropriate to call

such codas “second development sections,” but rather views them as an expansive form

of emotional resolution or thematic completion.32

Other theories provide additional frameworks within which to explain such long

codas. Hepokoski and Darcy refer to similarly lengthy, substantial codas as “discursive

codas.”33 They mention that the presence of a coda itself, particularly one of substantial

length, indicates a certain implied inefficiency within the sonata form, where perhaps the

form was not up to completing the expressive task that it set out for itself. Hepokoski and

Darcy also observe that discursive codas may have a smaller coda or codetta of their own,

and that such a codetta suggests that the discursive coda itself may be better understood

as a large interpolated space in between the ESC and a final concluding coda that

follows.34 Charles Rosen notes that the appearance of a long coda upsets the symmetry of

the sonata form, and that such codas may suggest that the symmetry is limiting and

unsatisfactory to the demands of the material.35 And though the discursive coda could

appear as a way to provide more thorough thematic closure, Hepokoski and Darcy also

Joseph Kerman, “Notes on Beethoven’s Codas,” Beethoven Studies 3, ed. Alan Tyson
32

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982), 154-55.

33
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 284-88.

34
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 286.

35
Charles Rosen, Sonata Forms, rev. ed. (New York: Norton, 1980), 297.

27
observe another type of discursive coda that appears at the end of Type 3 sonatas, one

that creates a cadenza effect that would more often be present in a Type 5 sonata

movement (more commonly known as the concerto form). They emphasize as well that

each coda is distinctive and must be studied individually and in context with the rest of

the movement in order to understand its expressive role in the form.36

Several of these elements appear in the second half of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2,

and together they may further the case for understanding this section of the piece as a

very large, discursive coda to the sonata form proper. The key remains in the tonic minor

when the new material enters. The material that follows is technically demanding and

interspersed with fugal passages and large climaxes, which resemble cadenza figures that

appear more commonly in large concerto movements. The musical themes developed in

the second half of the piece relate very closely to a motive of three repeated quarter notes

first heard near the end of the slow introduction, and again several times throughout the

piece, especially in the S1.1 theme, perhaps signifying bell tones. The initial theme of the

introduction returns several times in different keys and textures throughout the second

half and again at the end, in the final coda, signifying the narrator’s voice and implying

that the whole section may exist to provide thematic closure to the sonata form that

comprised the first half of the piece.

Although one-movement sonata forms pre-date the Classical era,37 late Romantic

composers started to utilize them at a much higher frequency. These one-movement

36
Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 287.
37
Frederick Martens, “The Modern Russian Pianoforte Sonata (Based on an Interview with M.
Serge Prokofieff),” The Musical Quarterly 5, no. 3 (1919): 358.

28
sonatas became especially central to the repertoire of Scriabin and Medtner himself, who

composed at least seven one-movement sonatas.38 Among the composers who exploited

this form, Franz Liszt was a catalyst in creating one-movement sonata forms that were

both substantial and multi-sectional (where the sections themselves are often understood

as suggesting the possible presence of “movements.”) Examples of this appear in two of

Liszt’s major works for the piano, the Sonata in B Minor, S. 178, and the Concerto No. 2

in A Major, S. 125. In both pieces, the work is divided into several large sections that

each take on the character of a different movement, but are played continuously and

linked thematically throughout the entire work. Just as in Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2, each

section is labeled with a new tempo marking that signifies an expressive shift in the

formal trajectory. Indeed, there are many similar characteristics in the music of Liszt and

Medtner—evidence perhaps that furthers the case that we should understand op. 25, no. 2

to be one large continuous “movement” in the Lisztian sense.

Despite these characteristics, there are multiple factors that contribute to viewing

the second half of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 as a separate movement. For example, at m.

285, Medtner adds an attacca marking—a marking that traditionally comes at the end of

a movement. The notable increase in tempo and the introduction of new thematic

material—although derived from the motive in the introduction—sets the presto section

at m. 285 apart from the preceding material in the coda. And the whole section ends with

its own coda, which brings the entire piece to its conclusion. Similarly, many articles

written about Liszt’s Sonata refer to each major tempo change as its own distinct

38
Martens, “The Modern Russian Pianoforte Sonata,” 357-63.

29
movement. William Newman describes Liszt’s Sonata as having a “double function,”39 in

that it comprises four movements condensed into one large work. Although—unlike in

Liszt’s Sonata—Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 has only two major sections, comparisons can be

drawn between the two pieces. More details on intertextual connections between

Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 and Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor will appear later in this essay.

Medtner’s Sonata in E Minor, op. 25, No. 2, mvt. ii

In his book Nicolas Medtner: His Life and Music, Barrie Martyn refers to the

second section of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 as a “free improvisation.”40 The second section

does indeed resemble a fantasy at first impression, as each new idea that appears

develops and embellishes the ideas presented at the beginning of the second half.

However, the unity of these themes, and the way they are transformed in mostly discrete,

sequential sections, also creates the effect of a theme and variations—where the effect is

strong enough that the entire second half of the piece should most likely be understood as

being in dialogue with this genre (refer to Figure 3 for a form diagram of the second

movement). This would not be out of the generic norms within the world of Romantic

sonata practice. A good example of a theme and variations in a Romantic sonata appears

in the second movement of Brahms’s Sonata in F-sharp Minor, op. 2. There, the music of

the second movement plays out continuously with no apparent breaks, but each new

phrase becomes a more elaborate version of the initial theme. Just as in the second half of

39
Kenneth Hamilton, Liszt: Sonata in B Minor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996),
31.

40
Martyn, Nicolas Medtner, 65.

30
op. 25, no. 2, the second movement of Brahms’s op. 2 contains an interpolated space in

the first variation that lies outside of the primary theme proper, yet becomes an important

expressive component for the rest of the movement. This effect happens in the second

half of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2, with its frequent interpolations of the slow introduction

music that interrupt the flow of the movement. Towards the end of the Medtner, the slow

introduction theme becomes a subject for development along with the other motive

mentioned earlier, comprising the three repeated quarter notes, and the two ideas are

juxtaposed together in the last variation, variation 10, before the finale. Medtner’s fugal

Figure 3: Theme and variations in op. 25, no. 2, mvt. ii

Measures: 285-311 311-331 332-371 372-392 393-404 405-413 413-443

Form: Theme Var. 1 Var. 2 Var. 3 Var. 4 Var. 5 Var. 6

Intro
theme
enters m.
362-367

Measures: 443-463 463-495 495-522 522-538 538-607 608-629 630-686

Form: Introduction Var. 7 Var. 8 Cadenza/ Var. 9 Var. 10 Finale


Theme – interpolated
interpolated space Juxtaposed
space against the
Intro
theme

31
writing and regular juxtaposition of themes serves as a way to provide “verbal

simultaneity,”41 in the language of musicologist Nadya Zimmerman. The meaning of the

word fugue, “to chase,” illustrates how each voice literally chases one another, fighting

for the right to be heard. Additionally, fugues are traditionally seen as technically

demanding and often serve to signify the struggle and complexity present in a work.

Many Classical and Romantic composers, including Beethoven, Brahms, and Liszt,

utilized the fugue as an expressive form. Medtner’s use of layering and overlapping thus

serves to further the narrative implications present throughout the movement.

Intertextuality

Connections to the music of Franz Liszt, particularly to the Sonata in B Minor,

surface throughout Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2. In his book Intertextuality in Western Art

Music, Michael Klein discusses the body of familiar musical texts and the role they play

in how we organize and understand the music we hear, through what literary critics refer

to as “intertextuality.”42 Theories of intertextuality suggest that readers always bring a

knowledge of other texts to their reading of any new text, and thus any piece of writing

will, for any reader, contain an array of allusions to other existing works. Klein makes a

distinction between direct historical influence and intertextuality, in that the former

implies a set chronological order and deliberate intent on the part of an author or

41
Nadya Zimmerman, “Musical Form as Narrator: The Fugue of the Sirens in James Joyce's
Ulysses,” Journal of Modern Literature26, no. 1, Joycean Possibilities (Autumn 2002), 108-18.

42
Michael Klein, Intertextuality in Western Art Music (Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
2005).

32
composer, whereas the latter depends on a reader’s interpretation, allowing for a more

generalized understanding of text crossings, and is not bound by relationships based on

time.43 He applies his theories in interpretations of the music of Witold Lutosławki and

Chopin, most notably, Lutosławski’s Symphony No. 4 and Chopin’s Fourth Ballade, both

of which exhibit similar formal schemes, key relationships, and narrative outcomes.44

Theories of intertextuality provide a framework within which we can understand

the possible relationships between Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2, and Liszt’s Sonata in B

Minor. For example, consider the motive of the three repeated quarter notes in op. 25, no.

2, which, as mentioned, appears in the introduction, again in the second theme, and later

becomes the primary motive in the second movement of the piece. The motive,

particularly in its extended form in the second movement, bears an intertext with the

motive in Liszt’s sonata that begins in the pickup to m. 14 (see Example 4). The B-minor

sonata has been referred to as “Teufelsonate,” or “Devil’s Sonata,” because of this

motive, and because of its similarity to Liszt’s other Mephistopheles motives from, for

example, his Faust Symphony.45

Further intertexts occur in other aspects of Medtner’s sonata. Just as in Liszt’s

Sonata, for example, Medtner also highlights the duality of light and darkness by stating

the “Devil’s motive” in major keys and changing its characteristics to appear more

pastoral and hymn-like. In Medtner’s first movement, the motive appears in the S1.1

theme in both the exposition and the recapitulation, and it appears again at the end of the

43
Klein, Intertextuality, 4.

44
Klein, Intertextuality, 128.

45
Paul Merrick, “‘Teufelsonate’: Mephistopheles in Liszt's Piano Sonata in B Minor,” The
Musical Times 152, no. 1914 (2011): 7-19.

33
movement, in the closing section in a bright E Major in the high register of the piano.

Liszt uses his own “Devil’s motive” in a similar manner, as in his B minor Sonata, when

the motive from m. 14 reappears, in m. 153, in the form of a lyrical, introspective theme

in the key of D Major (see Example 5).

Example 4: Devil’s motives in Liszt and Medtner

34
Example 5: Lyrical themes in Liszt and Medtner

Medtner’s second movement also contains intertexts to Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor

and Faust Symphony. In Medtner’s initial theme, which begins in m. 285, for example,

the Devil’s motive is stated in chords that descend chromatically against tempestuous

scalar figures, much like in m. 255 of Liszt’s Sonata (see Example 6). As Medtner’s

movement develops, the theme becomes increasingly spirited and dance-like while still

maintaining macabre undertones. The process bears an intertext with the process of

thematic development that Liszt adopts in the third movement of his Faust Symphony

(itself titled “Mephistopheles”), where a constant allusion to devil’s laughter permeates

the entire movement. Further intertexts appear in the endings of both the Medtner and

Liszt’s B-minor Sonata: both pieces reference the themes from their respective

35
introductions before arriving at a resting point and moving from there towards a final

cadence; and both pieces end very softly and fade into nothingness in their final bars.

Perhaps the major difference is that while Medtner’s sonata remains in the minor mode

until the end, Liszt’s sonata ends peacefully in the major mode.

Example 6: Medtner, intertext with Liszt

Other intertextual references linking Medtner to Liszt, through the character of

Mephistopheles, appear in m. 372, and again at m. 608, in the tenebroso sections of the

second movement of op. 25, no. 2. In these sections, the motive is transformed into a

syncopated, repeated sixteenth-note figure that begins by outlining the Devil’s motive

that first appears in the introduction at m. 14. The syncopation, along with the change of

36
tempo, bears an intertext with the lyrical section at m. 339 of Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz, No.

1 (see Example 7). A programmatic work, this piece tells the story of a village

celebration visited by Faust and Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles steals a fiddle and

attempts to lure people with his seductive playing while Faust dances wildly. As in the

Mephisto Waltz,

Example 7: Medtner, intertext with Liszt, Mephisto Waltz No. 1

m. 372 of the Medtner introduces qualities of lyricism, briefly moving to the major mode

at m. 377 in a pleading and almost seductive manner, before developing into a wild and

turbulent dance-like variation of the theme. All of these similarities between Medtner’s

sonata and Liszt’s Mephistophelean works, as well as the use of the marking tenebroso
37
(“darkness” in Latin, and a reference perhaps to the last three days of the holy week in the

church calendar), furthers the case for an interpretation of the Medtner in which the piece

is understood as having religious undertones, with the motive of three repeated quarter

notes signifying what could be understood as Mephistopheles, or the devil.

This is not the first work of Medtner’s that bears numerous intertexts to Liszt’s

Sonata in B Minor. Glen Carruthers, in a review of Barrie Martyn’s book on Medtner,

points out that although Martyn drew a comparison between Medtner’s Sonata in G

Minor, op. 22 and Rachmaninoff’s Sonata No. 1 in D Minor, op. 28—which also contains

a programmatic connection to Faust and Mephistopheles—he overlooked the connection

to Liszt’s Sonata. In his review, Carruthers describes the similarity between the rhythm

and pitches used in the opening of Medtner’s, op. 22 and the theme that appears at m. 14

in the Liszt Sonata. He also outlines similarities in the way the themes are transformed.

Furthermore, Carruthers remarks on the striking similarity between the music at m. 83 in

Medtner’s Sonata and m. 217 in Liszt’s Sonata.46 Clearly there is a case to be made that

Liszt’s works may influence the listener’s impression of Medtner, and these works play

an important role in understanding the narrative implications present in Medtner’s

expansive, Romantic sonatas.

To summarize, the second movement of Medtner’s op. 25, no. 2 plays an

important role in the narrative trajectory of the work. The tempestuous theme, derived

from a motive in the introduction of the foregoing sonata form, signifies the unfolding of

the implied protagonist’s journey—a journey which perhaps remained unclear in the

46
Glen Carruthers, Review of Nicolas Medtner: His Life and Music, by Barrie Martyn, Canadian
University Music Review 17, no. 2 (1997): 86–92.

38
sonata form. This motive, which shares similar characteristics to Liszt’s Mephistopheles

motive, alludes to an underlying religious theme that signifies a struggle for salvation,

and a darker, mocking presence that keeps the protagonist from reaching a point of

clarity. Each new variation signifies a different character; dark and turbulent, playful and

jubilant, or solemn and reflective. The theme from the slow introduction reappears in a

different key in every statement, climbing up chromatically throughout the movement,

yet remaining almost entirely in the minor mode. Although each ascending half step

seems to signify the protagonist’s journey to a heightened state, the movement remains in

the minor mode until the very end. The piece ends softly and abruptly, signifying the

night wind blowing off into the distance.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the narrative of Medtner’s Sonata op. 25, no. 2 may be understood

as depicting a struggle of a protagonist and hinting at salvation, all of it in a story told

from the perspective of a narrator. Medtner uses keys and themes that provide light

within the dark and turbulent material, but the use of unexpected key areas and the order

in which they appear ultimately undermines the positive narrative trajectory. Medtner’s

interpolations of the introduction’s material throughout the piece and frequent shifts in

his harmonic progressions, textures, and dynamics suggest the presence of an agency

outside of the sonata’s primary temporal plane. The epigraph of Tyutchev’s poem

signifies the theme of ensuing chaos, and the intertextual links to Liszt’s Sonata in B

Minor and Faust Symphony signify a darker presence in the work. Religious themes

manifest in Medtner’s use of hymn topics, bell tones, and plagal effects—and in the

39
intertexts with Liszt. Although aspects of the form remain open to interpretation,

highlighting the possible narrative implications that also manifest in other Romantic

sonatas provides greater clarity to the music and its expressive meaning. Due to the

complexity of the music and form, illuminating these aspects aids in a more informed

performance—allowing the pianist to articulate the motives and present the themes in a

way that gives emphasis to the dual nature of these musical ideas. An informed

performance maximizes the listener’s experience, ultimately creating an atmosphere that

supports his or her own interpretation of the music. Through the performer and the

listener, the music gains greater depth that allows a full appreciation of the expansive and

imaginative nature of Medtner’s works.

40
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