The great demerit of the sonata, however, is its lack
of cohesive thought. As a whole it suggests the
spectacle of a highly gifted poet, full of emotional
ardour and desire for self expression, but lacking
the requisite skill to bind long continued effort
into a cohesive whole; and who makes the mistake of
trying to cramp his undoubtedly beautiful ideas by
compressing them into a set form. The
Sonata
Tragica is more of a traditional sonata than its
successors, the
Eroica, Op. 50, the
Norse,
Op. 57, and the
Keltic, Op. 59, but as
a work of art is less successful. Its subjects
are quite fine, showing, individually, great strength
of character and tender feeling, but they often appear
to have no definite connection with each other.
In the first movement especially we find this defect,
for the second subject, with its lovely tenderness,
contrasts awkwardly with the boldness and strength
of the first. The cause of this would seem to
be that a quieter second subject is demanded by the
form of the sonata, but its effect on the movement
as a whole is patchy and illogical. MacDowell
evidently made some efforts to effect cohesion, transferring
ideas from one movement to another in the process,
but the attempts generally are not successful.
He tries to write in the traditional form, and only
succeeds in drawing the student’s attention
to the futility of it. Later, in the
Norse
and the
Keltic sonatas, he threw form overboard
when it suited him; and wrote far greater works in
doing so. There is no doubting the quality of
the music in the
Sonata Tragica, however, for
it contains passages of dramatic fire, breadth and
sweep of line, beauty of expression and a strength
of character that can only be the work of a great
tone poet. The work was undoubtedly written at
a white heat of inspiration, for at the time MacDowell
was not only grieved over the death of his old master
and friend, Joachim Raff, but was also harrassed by
the drudgery and struggle of his own existence.
He poured out his passionate feelings into the sonata,
which is largely a reflection of the hopeless outlook
of his own care-laden life.
1. The introductory Largo maestoso opens
with a figure of striking aspect, like a clenched,
upraised fist. Immediately following this comes
a quieter, more serious strain, but only to be succeeded
by loud chords again, now punctuated by rushing ascents
in scale and arpeggio figures, the whole culminating
in a tremendous descent of double octaves bringing
almost the whole range of the pianoforte keyboard
into action. After a pause, the Allegro risoluto
enters ppp. Its bearing is strong and proud
and has much that is akin to the nervous, resolute
martial energy of Elgar. The second subject,
Dolce con tenerezza, is exquisitely tender
and contemplative, but it follows the first awkwardly,
and the two as MacDowell left them are like detached
scraps having no relation to one another. As we