The Evolution of Classic Period Forms in the Romantic Era

The Rise of ABA Form
The shift in ideals and purpose from the Classic to the Romantic period creates such sharp contrast because the two periods stand so close to each other in time. The earlier historical stylistic periods lasted roughly 150 years. The tenets of the Classic style emerged in full definition in the music of Haydn by about 1780, but the earliest stirrings of Romanticism became evident in Beethoven’s Symphony No.3 in the first decade of the nineteenth century. Classicism, then, ran its course in roughly a mere thirty years. The compressed time frame reflected the fast pace of change in society and science, and in this respect the Classic period can be regarded as one of the earliest periods of modern history.

As our study of music has clearly shown, each subsequent style has its immediate technical basis in the style that precedes it. But we have also seen intellectuals break with the traditions of the immediate past and draw upon significantly older models, particularly those of ancient Greece, for inspiration and guidance. Much of Renaissance music, especially pervasive imitation, developed carefully from techniques nascent in the late Middle Ages. At the same time, Humanism drove new developments. In the conservative vein, madrigal took pervasive imitation to its most expressive and technically advanced state. The radical thought of the Florentine Camerata led to recitativo, the polar opposite to the strictly-regulated texture of pervasive imitation.

The Classic period may be regarded as a second Renaissance. By early eighteenth century, the time of Bach, several new winds were blowing across Europe. For one, scientific strides both eroded the authority (and believability) of the Church and led to new was of living. The Industrial Revolution would blossom later in the century, and its impact would mean tools for increased production, greater population density in cities with the best and worst of what crowding means, and radical shifts in the class-structure of society. The Classic period was at once the twilight of the monarch and the rise of the citizen.

The Supplemental Lecture on painting tells the story. The aristocracy had become less and less connected to the lower classes it was supposed to rule, withdrawing into a world of eroticism and comfort. At the same time, the ordinary man, inflamed by ideals of the Rights of Man, a concept not so different from ancient Greek concepts of citizenship, finally began to strike back against his poverty and oppression. The Church, which historically would have served as the control rod, had lost so much of its influence that it was powerless to affect, guide, or stop any developments

In the Classic period, then, we find two new developments. First, the aristocracy wanted music for entertainment. The heavy polyphonic texture and serious nature of much of Baroque music could not fulfill the new need. Homophonic texture, found first in the frottola, served beautifully to create a music that would be tuneful and easy to apprehend. Second, a shift in patronage occurred in the Classic Period. As the monies and influence of the aristocracy diminished, the general public assumed more of the financial burden of underwriting new works through subscription concerts, that is, concerts supported by ticket sales. Subscription financing had a huge impact on the nature of new music, and the composer had to consider the impact of the tastes and desires of a less-educated patron when composing his music. The result was that music composed for the educated aristocracy, in particular the string quartet and piano sonata, was generally more sophisticated than the symphony composed for the general public. The social upheavals of the day also became evident, and it was inevitable that composers such as Beethoven would follow the lead of painters such as Delacroix in elevating the common man. The fiery music of Beethoven and the self-centered music of the Romantic composers to follow is the precise result of contemporary political developments and later, partially the result of nascent science disciplines such as Freud’s psychology.

Musical Classicism, itself, is the resurrection or reapplication of the tenets of ancient Greece (and embodied by Apollo). The music of Haydn, Mozart, and early Beethoven consciously strove for the greatest clarity, balance, form, elegance, and restraint. The classic sonata allegro was a template into which one could plug the parts. The listener knew what to expect upon hearing, and he wasn’t disappointed. Beethoven was a bridge to Romanticism rather than Romanticism’s first great composer because his love of mankind drove him to imbue his music with passion. Beethoven never relinquished the Classical mantle, never obscured Classical forms or tenets in his music, and regarded himself as a Classicist to his dying day.

Romantic music, however, does not find its power in Classicism, but in the dramatic contrasts pioneered by Beethoven. An expression, often repeated by music historians, and which a great deal of truth is that all composers subsequent to Beethoven composed in his shadow. Beethoven always spun out his motives to their fullest and most logical conclusions, and did so in protracted works. The Romantic composers had no interest in this type of long-range logic. As a result, Romantic works tend to concentrate or focus upon a single element that might be found in the music of Beethoven, and use that element as the focus of smaller, less extensive pieces. In brief, the process of technical development was no longer central to composition.

Romanticism gains its power from varying radically and violently from common templates. A similar effect is created in modern movies when the director deviates from standard story formulae in order to surprise and shock the viewer. For example, the viewer is stunned when the headline actor is killed off in the story ten minutes into the movie. Not surprisingly, Romantic music delights in twisting the techniques and forms inherited from the Classic Period composers. A similar process is seen in the contrast between Classic and Hellenistic Greek Statuary. Proportion losses its importance to dramatic impact.

The motive continues to be paramount in importance as a building block in a considerable portion of the music, but it is often utilized in new ways such as the idée fixe or the leitmotiv. The sonata allegro remains as a vestige, but undergoes significant modification. Whereas the Classic composers based their sonatas on two themes, Romantic composers more often introduced many themes into their expositions. Sometimes introductory material was so developed that the listener could easily mistake it for thematic material. The manifold themes introduced in the exposition are often not explored in the development section. Even the main themes are often ignored, and the overall form of a movement becomes essentially a parade of new ideas. New themes are also sometimes introduced in the development, stated, and then abandoned. Good examples are Chopin’s “Polonaise in A Flat” and Tchaikovsky’s sonata. You’ll be hard pressed to identify the main themes. Inherent in the introduction of unrelated themes is great variety, surprise, and contrast, but it makes sense to the listener only because he holds the sonata allegro scheme in his subconscious as the basic format.

The minuet and trio form, derived from the late Baroque ordering of dance I-dance II-dance I, also had a strong impact on the forms of the Romantic composer. Another ABA model was the da capo aria. Romantic music, especially the miniature, evolved steadily toward a new form ABA. In a sense, the dance I-dance II-dance I and the overall plan of the sonata allegro reflect each other. If one omits the coda, the form that is left is ABA. ABA form became one of the mainstays of Romantic instrumental music and has survived into our time. Like Lacoon and His Sons in the essay on ancient Greek statuary, the vestiges of Classic balance, though grossly obscured, supply the basic elements essential to coherence.

Romantic music also developed other forms, in particular, ones that put narrative at the fore. These pieces, such as any of the lieder of Schubert, the character miniatures of Schumann, the Symphonie Fantasique of Berlioz, the tone poems of Lizst and others, and the operas of Wagner all remain coherent as the result of a story-line imposed from outside the music and demonstrated by through-composed music. The concept and its resultant form are, however, not new. We have already encountered the idea in the madrigal.