In popular culture, Franz Schubert (1797-1828) might be known for only a few famous melodies even though he wrote over 600 songs, 10 symphonies, sacred choral works, and dozens of piano pieces and string quartets. As a transitional figure between the refined elegance of the Classical style and Romanticism’s heady brew of personal emotion, Schubert lived too short a time to have a foot solidly in either era. He is the composer of works that ascend to the height of sublimity. He is also the creator of melodies that have crept into quite unexpected places. Any fan of The Smurfs animated TV series will know Gargamel’s ominous theme (from Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony), and I personally experienced a shift “from the sublime to the banal” when my new dishwasher signaled the end of its washing cycle by playing Schubert’s famous melody from his “Trout” Quintet for Piano and Strings in A Major.

The facts surrounding Schubert’s composition of the “Trout” Quintet are fairly well known today. Published posthumously in 1829, the Quintet was actually written ten years earlier during a summer holiday in Upper Austria. Schubert received an invitation to join his friend Sylvester Paumgartner at the latter’s home in Steyr. Paumgartner, a successful businessman and amateur cellist, commissioned Schubert to write a set of variation on his favorite song, Die Forelle (The Trout). Schubert never intended for the “Trout” Quintet to reach a widespread audience. It was written at Paumgartner’s request and simply utilized the musicians (violin, viola, cello, bass, piano) he had on hand that summer in 1819.

One of the most striking things about the piece – and it’s not usually seen as a good thing – is the extent of large-scale repetition of whole blocks of material. Such repetition may show the signs of hasty completion. And while it seems out of step with Schubert’s creative genius – or at least our romanticized image of his genius – it certainly makes sense if Schubert was rushing to get a piece ready for performance among friends. On the other hand, Schubert often chooses static forms and repetition in other compositions rather than the urgency of a Beethovenian sonata form. Exploration and subtle mood shifts are his goals rather than dramatic architecture.

The variations movement is certainly the most famous portion of the piece; but it is amply supported by four other movements of diverse character. Even in the opening bars of the first movement one senses the freshness and optimism of a young man (Schubert was just 22 in 1819). One also notes the influence of Mozart in the close string writing, clear phrase structure and conversational tone among the instruments. The texture of low strings, bolstered by the unusual inclusion of double bass, contrasted against high piano writing is a signature effect exploited throughout Schubert’s Quintet. The opening page also includes a striking harmonic turn from A major to F major, the flat-VI key relation. That move opens up new realms of tonal exploration, and its sound was one Schubert particularly enjoyed. He uses it many times in the following four movements and in numerous other compositions.

The second movement, an Andante in F major, echoes that same key relation, since the previous movement closed in A. But Schubert hardly lays out the first key before he’s off on another tonal tangent. He uses quick modulations to good effect and gradually presents four distinct themes in various keys during the first half of the movement. What happens next is unexpected and troubling to many critics, for Schubert simply hikes up the pitch level and proceeds to copy-and-paste the entire first half of the movement, note for note. It’s hard not to feel a little unsettled at the end.

The next movement, a Scherzo, provides much-needed energy after the repetitive second movement. The main theme is marked by its three-note pickup, which sounds like a hasty sprint to the downbeat. Schubert captures something both forceful and yet playful here, and the rhythm and jaunty articulations create an infectious spirit. He only restrains the momentum during the central Trio section, which is far more lyrical and characterized by a musette-like drone.

In order to examine the famous variation (fourth) movement, it might be useful to say something about the song on which it is based. Schubert composed Die Forelle (The Trout) in 1817. The text is by C.F.D. Schubart and abounds in sunny images of the fish’s carefree existence, but we all know that the fish’s days are numbered:

In einem Bächlein helle,

Da schoß in froher Eil

Die launige Forelle

Vorüber wie ein Pfeil.

Ich stand an dem Gestade

Und sah in süßer Ruh

Des muntern Fisches Bade

Im klaren Bächlein zu.

Across a clear brook gentle,

There shot in eager haste

The trout, so temp’ramental;

Quite arrow-like it raced.

I on the shore was gazing

And watched the brook disclose

The merry fish’s bathing

To me in sweet repose.

In the Quintet Schubert composes a theme with six variations. He scores the theme for string quartet; the piano is a spectator at first. The “Trout” melody stands out clearly in the violin, supported by graceful lines in the cello and viola. In successive variations the tune moves through the texture from piano (var. 1) to viola and cello (var. 2) to string bass (var. 3). At Variation 4 Schubert dramatically redirects into D minor and clearly deviates from the “Trout” tune. Although the latter half of the variation retains an echo of the melody, the first half is all Sturm und Drang – far away from the serene world of the preceding material. Variation 5 is the only section not centered on D major/minor, but Schubert compromises by sticking fairly closely to the theme. Variation 6 (coda) features a divided ensemble: violin-piano duo versus string quartet. In the duo passages the violin leads while the piano supports. When the strings play, it is the cello that carries the theme. Overall, it is a delightful movement, full of contrast and interaction among the parts. Paumgartner shows himself a man of good taste, for in commissioning Schubert to write this movement, he highlights the melody’s best attributes and its susceptibility to variation. Nevertheless, Schubert probably never imagined his song about “The Trout” would one day be globally recognized.

The finale opens with bare octaves on the dominant note (E), functioning like a summons and clearing the air for an introductory theme. The summons motive recurs periodically to mark boundaries in the form. Schubert’s second theme clearly recalls the “Trout” melody, unifying the movements and infusing a bit of lilting D major into the finale. Where Schubert fails to impress, perhaps, is what he does with the remainder of the form. Rather than staging a dramatic return of the main theme and the main key, he favors a kind of massive song structure with A and B sections each appearing twice (AB, AB). That, in itself, is not necessarily problematic or deficient, but it does force most performers to ignore his instruction to repeat the exposition: Who could reasonably enjoy three repetitions of the same AB material? We know that Schubert often felt dissatisfied with form, particularly sonata form.  So striking a departure from conventions from one so young portends future difficulty in creating musical designs that fit his needs. If we see the quintet as lyrical and poetic but formally problematic, we are still immensely fortunate that Schubert bequeathed such an “experiment” to posterity.

INTERMISSION

Prior to Schubert, both Mozart and Beethoven had written grand String Quintets in C Major, though their examples used the conventional “viola” quintet scoring (i.e., string quartet plus a second viola). Schubert creates his Quintet by adding a second cello, thereby bolstering the lower register and creating a sonic balance to the two violins. Emerging at the same time as his final piano sonatas, the String Quintet calls out to us with special poignancy. It is one of several substantial works written by Schubert at age 30; all are mature works, without question, despite the composer’s relatively young age. Because he died so soon after writing them, these late works leave us wondering what Schubert might have written during the subsequent 20-30 years had death spared him. Sadly, his publisher showed little interest in such “serious” music and replied to the composer only to ask if he didn’t have some “popular songs or piano pieces” to send along? The work languished until the 1850s when it was finally published and premiered.

The C-Major Quintet is BIG – big in the spirit of Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony, for instance; expansive in scope, duration (around 50 minutes), and artistic ambition. Schubert establishes a grand tone by virtue of a massive first movement. From the opening bars we experience again his fondness for major/minor contrasts; and like Schubert himself, let us linger a bit over this famous beginning. Listen for how the sustained C-major chord crescendos to a peak where it mutates to a dissonant seventh chord involving E-flat pitches, borrowed from C minor. Though marked Allegro ma non troppo at the outset, the movement feels as if it begins with a slow introduction. That impression comes from Schubert’s broad gestures and slow chord changes. A true Allegro theme does not arrive until measure 33, in fact. It is a theme dominated more by harmony and rhythm than melody. It also parrots the same C major / diminished 7th chord juxtaposition played at the Quintet’s beginning. Schubert finally indulges his lyrical impulse in the second theme, wonderfully set apart in the distant key of E-flat major and delivered by cello duet.

The contrast between animated and lyrical themes, coupled with a fluid slippage between major and minor keys, neatly summarizes recurring features of Schubert’s late music. It also motivates nearly the entire development section in this movement. At one point, Schubert settles into B major, the key about as tonally opposed to home key (C major) as possible. From there he begins moving back toward a reprise of his main themes, though the journey is strikingly halted twice by deceptive cadences to A-flat major. These deflections – not really significant in themselves – help prepare our ears for that key when it appears later for the reprised second theme. Classical recapitulations are fairly predictable: they serve to reinforce the return and solidification of the home key (C major, in this case). But since Beethoven helped to push beyond that convention, we should not be surprised that Schubert’s recapitulation remains wonderfully unsettled all the way through to the radiant final phrase. At the end, listeners may not even realize that 20 minutes have already passed.

The second movement, marked Adagio, is both emotionally touching and technically curious. The theme itself is incredibly simple; it’s hardly a theme at all. Moving at a leisurely pace, the music unfolds as basic triads, one harmony per measure at most points. Schubert opens and closes the movement in E major (a traditional A-B-A form). However, his guiding strategy in this Adagio seems no more ambitious than presenting a touchingly simple motif in a variety of keys. Vigorous trills across all five instruments signal a precipitous dive into the remote key of F minor for the turbulent B section. (As an aside for those with some theoretical interest, the semitone relation between E major and F minor – the latter called the “Neapolitan” chord or flat-II – will be significant in this Quintet’s subsequent movements.) Structurally, we are reminded of the great slow movements from Schubert’s late piano sonatas, D.959 and D.960, both of which include lyrical A sections and agitated B sections. He develops the B section of this Quintet to such an extent that it becomes much more than an episode, requiring a substantial retransition to get back home, tonally speaking. Later, as the movement seems poised to close, Schubert unexpectedly veers off into F minor again, suggesting another episode or a repeat of the B section? Alas, it is a feint. F minor dissolves instantly and the movement closes with a pianissimo cadence in E major.

Having front-loaded this massive chamber work, Schubert sprints through the last two movements. The Scherzo projects a rustic, pastoral quality. It charms by virtue of the hearty, foot-stomping rhythmic theme. Looking slightly below the surface, however, we will hear again Schubert’s pattern of sliding off from C major into “flat” keys (A-flat and E-flat major). The central Trio section evokes a very different aesthetic. Several dialogues take place between pairs of instruments. The details of his chromatic moves may excite analysts, but for general listeners, the overall impact is obvious enough: the Trio seems intent on quelling all the energy released in the Scherzo with tonal moves that continuously droop and chromatically descend. To exit the Trio, Schubert simply uses repeated G pitches, played at the original tempo, as a springboard to repeating the feisty Scherzo.

The finale, marked Allegretto, continues the folk-music sensibility but moves farther east. Schubert himself was born in a Vienna suburb not far from the point where modern-day Austria, Slovakia, and Hungary meet. At the time, all of the surrounding territory was simply part of the Hapsburg empire, but that unity never erased regional musical idiosyncrasies. A Hungarian ethos strides forth throughout this radiant sonata-rondo movement; in the main theme. It derives from the virtuosic first violin, syncopated harmonic support, and minor-mode inflections. In addition, and especially obvious at later appearances of the theme, the folk element derives from a characteristic use of the flat-2 scale step (for instance, A-flat in the key of G). We noted this detail in the Adagio, and that early investment now comes to full fruition. After surveying two different themes, Schubert moves toward the close of the Quintet with a reprise of the main theme played più Allegro (a little faster). Now the theme is decorated with the colorful flat-2 element common to central European folk music. As if to drive his point home further – this is Hungarian music, by God! – Schubert calls for an even faster tempo (più Presto) during the coda and hammers home the flat-2 all the way to the final chord. Folk-inspired finales were quite common at the time; for instance, Beethoven used a Hungarian peasant dance for the Appassionata’s whirlwind finale. Closing such a grand chamber piece poses a challenge, one that Schubert solves with a vigorous sonata-rondo played faster and faster in a furious sprint to the finish.

Jason Stell, © 2025