Dispensable and indispensable works
Antonín Dvořák probably had good reasons for destroying three of his string quartets.
The two string quartets No. 2 (1869?) and No. 5 (1873) are exemplary of the dilemma faced by later generations in the question of which works by a great composer - especially one who was already respected during his lifetime - should be considered typical and recognized on the basis of his judgement, and which should not.
The destructive self-criticism of Johannes Brahms and others and the resulting - often supposed - great losses have been the subject of much speculation and discussion. The idea that a composer who has achieved fame through numerous masterpieces must simply always have been brilliant and great can only be rejected with the help of common sense. Even Mozart and Beethoven, guarantors of seemingly eternally valid fruits of the spirit with a direct line to divine inspiration, have produced banal, non-binding, dispensable musical material that may well fall victim to general oblivion without producing any serious feelings of loss. Should we not assume that those who were the best connoisseurs of their own work were also the best judges of its absolute value? A clarinet quintet by Dvořák, an octet with piano - lost!!! We tend to mourn the loss of dubious works (of transition or important phases of development) rather than understand their destruction by their creators as a necessary purification process of their oeuvre as a whole, which makes the value of the remaining works all the more clear. Curiosity tempts us to search for that which should no longer be explored.
Dvořák's intensive engagement with Wagner and Liszt from 1863 onwards was so momentous that he placed his own work at the service of other great composers without being able to move convincingly in these overly large shoes. Three quartets (D major, E minor, B flat major) were composed during this phase of idolatry, the scores of which Dvořák later consequently destroyed, as he had identified the path he had taken as the wrong one. Unfortunately - one almost has to say - sets of parts survived in private ownership, which have now led to the transfer of the pieces that had fallen out of favor with the highest authority, the author himself. The 50-minute B flat major quartet in particular, with its endless thematic interweavings and semi-improvised incomprehensibility, is an acoustic monster and a first-rate waste of time for any performer. As a study of a compositional dead end, it may be acceptable, but it is simply no good for anything more.
The 5th quartet by the composer, who has awoken from a deep sleep and become clear-sighted, is completely different. Here Dvořák finds an individual style, back to tangible formal guidelines, an emotional statement, verve, verve, sensuality. Of course, none of the later masterpieces should be placed alongside it, but the unknown of the score should be joyfully brought to life in concert, allowing oneself to be carried away without preconceptions and to hear where the origins of the later indisputable mastery really lie. Dvořák was no early achiever, no child prodigy, but a hard-working musician whose struggle for his own sound also produced negligible goods. The B flat major quartet can safely remain hidden from the eyes of the world, but the F minor quartet should be performed more often!
Antonín Dvořák, String Quartet No. 2 in B flat major B 17, edited by Antonín Pokorný and Karel Šolc, parts, BA 9540, € 24.95; study score, TP 540, € 18.95, Bärenreiter, Prague 2014
Antonín Dvořák, String Quartet No. 5 in F minor op. 9, edited by Jarmil Burghausen and Anton Cubr Parts, BA 9545, € 17.95; study score, TP 535, € 16.50, Bärenreiter, Prague 2014
