INDIANA THEORY REVIEW

Spring 2012 Volume 30 · Number 1

Editor’s Comment

Arnie Cox (Oberlin Conservatory of Music) 1

Tripartite Subjectivity in Music Listening

Tomoko Deguchi (Winthrop University) 45

Procedures of Becoming in Toru Takemitsu’s
Piano Distance

Mark Richards (University of Lethbridge) 75

Transforming Form: The Process of Becoming in
Beethoven’s String Quartet, Op. 59, No. 1

Roger Graybill (New England Conservatory) 103

Review of Steve Larson, Musical Forces: Motion,
Metaphor, and Meaning in Music

About the Contributors 121

Transforming Form: The Process of
Becoming in the Scherzo of
Beethoven’s String Quartet, Op. 59,
No. 1

Mark Richards
University of Lethbridge

T
he question of form in the scherzo of Beethoven’s Op. 59,
No. 1 has been of perennial interest to the scholarly community,
and with good reason. The movement’s form is, to quote Joseph
Kerman, sui generis:1 even though it shares features with traditional
structures, especially sonata form, it resists any simple categorization.
Scholars have therefore attempted to explain the movement’s structure
either by viewing it as a sonata form with ad hoc characteristics or as a
fusion of sonata form and scherzo-trio alternation.2 Regardless of their
particular analyses, scholars invariably consider the movement’s form to

1
Joseph Kerman, The Beethoven Quartets (New York: W. W. Norton,
1966), 106.
2
For sonata-form views (sometimes only implicit), see Vincent D’Indy,
Cours de Composition Musicale, vol. 2, no. 2 (Paris: Durand, 1912–15), 233; Gerald
Abraham, Beethoven’s Second-Period Quartets (London: Oxford University Press,
1942), 18–21; Arthur Shepherd, The String Quartets of Ludwig van Beethoven
(Cleveland: Horace Carr, 1935), 29–30; Daniel Gregory Mason, The Quartets
of Beethoven (New York: Oxford University Press, 1947), 91–94; Joseph de
Marliave, Beethoven’s Quartets, trans. Hilda Andrews (New York: Dover, 1961
[1928]), 70–78; Basil Lam, Beethoven String Quartets, vol. 1 (London: British
Broadcasting Corporation, 1975), 41–42; Philip Radcliffe, Beethoven’s String
Quartets, 2nd ed. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1975), 53–56;
Richard Kramer, “Beethoven Facsimiles,” review of Music Manuscripts in
Facsimile, ed. Alan Tyson, 19th-Century Music 6, no. 1 (1982):79–80; Dave
Headlam, “A Rhythmic Study of the Exposition in the Second Movement of
Beethoven’s Quartet, Op. 59, No. 1,” Music Theory Spectrum 7 (1985): 119n8;
Lewis Lockwood, “A Problem of Form: The ‘Scherzo’ of Beethoven’s String
Quartet in F Major, Op. 59, No. 1,” Beethoven Forum 2 (1993): 85–95; Leonard
76 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
be consistent from start to finish—and herein lies the problem. For if
the form is instead understood in terms of Janet Schmalfeldt’s “process
of becoming,” then many of the peculiarities of the movement begin
to make more sense.3 In this regard, I argue that the scherzo begins
as a sonata-rondo and ends as a sonata form, and contains a central
section of becoming, as represented by “sonata-rondo sonata form,”
where “ ” is Schmalfeldt’s analytical symbol for “becoming.” Figure 1
shows a detailed form diagram of the movement from this perspective.
The unique structure of the movement is brought about by the gradual
transformation of its opening thematic material, a process that divides
the movement into two halves. The first half searches for a satisfactory
melody to begin the main theme, and the second discovers this melody
at its outset, but withholds a statement in the tonic until the coda. This
second half also provides a fitting counterweight to the first half not
only by comprising exactly the same number of measures (238),4 but
also by traversing most of the same material in the same order and

G. Ratner, The Beethoven String Quartets: Compositional Strategies and Rhetoric

(Stanford, CA: Stanford Bookstore, 1995), 117–23; and William Kinderman,
Beethoven, 2nd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 133.
For views of sonata form fused with scherzo-trio (again, sometimes only
implicit), see Hugo Riemann, Beethoven’s Streichquartette (Berlin: Schlesinger,
n.d.), 55–59, who only marks “Trio” for the F-minor theme at m. 115; Kerman,
The Beethoven Quartets, 103–9; Erwin Ratz, Einführung in die musikalische
Formenlehre, 3rd ed. (Vienna: Universal Edition, 1973), 181–96; Michael
Luxner, “The Evolution of the Minuet/Scherzo in the Music of Beethoven”
PhD diss., Eastman School of Music, 1978), 197–201; Wulf Konold, The String
Quartet: From Its Beginnings to Franz Schubert, trans. Susan Hellauer (New
York: Heinrichshofen, 1983 [1980]), 114–15; Barbara R. Barry, “Dialectical
Structure in Action: The Scherzo of Beethoven’s F Major Razoumovsky Quartet
Reconsidered,” in The Philosopher’s Stone: Essays in the Transformation of Musical
Structure (Hillsdale, NY: Pendragon Press, 2000), 18–31; and Jonathan Del
Mar, “A Problem Resolved? The Form of the Scherzo of Beethoven’s String
Quartet in F, Op. 59, No. 1,” Beethoven Forum 8 (2001): 165–72.
Two authors argue that the scherzo’s form is impenetrable and therefore
unimportant in relation to other features such as motives and key relationships:
A. B. Marx, Ludwig van Beethoven: Leben und Schaffen, vol. 2 (Berlin: Otto
Janke, 1901), 46–47; and Theodor Helm, Beethoven’s Streichquartette, 3rd ed.
(Leipzig: C. F. W. Siegel, 1921), 54–62 (see especially p. 55, where Helm quotes
Marx on the scherzo).
3
See Janet Schmalfeldt, In the Process of Becoming: Analytic and Philosophical
Perspectives on Form in Early Nineteenth-Century Music (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2011).
4
As first observed by Ratz, Einführung, 182.
 SONATA-RONDO SONATA-RONDO SONATA FORM
Exposition Development
A B A C
MT TR(MT) ST CL RT MT TR (MT) IT RT (MT) (MT) (MT)
Measure 1 29 39 62 65 68 87 101 115 148 155 177 193
Key I iii_______ I I v III, II II, VI II ,VI ,iii

SONATA FORM
Recapitulation Coda
A B A C
MT TR(MT) ST CL RT MT TR (MT) IT RT (MT) MT (MT)
Measure 239 265 275 298 300 304 323 337 354 387 394 420 460
Key VI, III,I vi_______ V I i V I I, IV I
Richards, Transforming Form
Figure 1. Form Diagram of Op. 59, No. 1, Scherzo

MT = Main Theme TR = Transition ST = Subordinate Theme

CL = Closing Section (i.e., codettas) IT = Interior Theme RT = Retransition
( ) = derived from (previous material) = modulating
77
78 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
transposing the keys of non-tonic themes down a fifth in the manner of
a recapitulation. A full appreciation of this point of view, however, nec-
essarily begins by establishing its context in the long and varied history
of interpretations of this movement.

I. The Two Main Approaches to the Scherzo’s Form

As mentioned above, scholarly thought on the form of the scherzo

from Op. 59, No. 1 has tended towards two main interpretations:
1) sonata form and 2) a hybrid of scherzo-trio alternation and sonata
form. Yet no matter which of these views one adopts, there remain ele-
ments that counteract the proposed formal models and therefore raise
questions as to the suitability of the analyses. A detailed exploration of
each approach will help to clarify the sorts of problems involved in each
of these two interpretations.

i) The Scherzo as a Sonata Form

The more traditional of the two interpretations is the sonata-form

view, which dates at least back to D’Indy and identifies (or implies) an
exposition, development, recapitulation, and usually a coda. The most
recent analyst to espouse this view is Lewis Lockwood in a full article
on the topic.5 While Lockwood ultimately decides that the recapitula-
tion begins at m. 239 (which I advocate below), the initial hypothesis he
presents of the movement’s form, in which the recapitulation begins at
m. 259, as shown in Figure 2, is representative of sonata-form analyses
of the scherzo.6
Bolstering this initial hypothesis is Beethoven’s autograph manu-
script of the movement, in which he ultimately cancelled out a lengthy
repeat that would have encompassed all of the development and reca-
pitulation. In fact, as Lockwood points out, Beethoven did precisely the

5
Lockwood, “A Problem of Form.”
6
Ibid., 86–87. On pp. 92–93, he changes his placement of the recapitulation
to m. 239 for two reasons, as he makes clear: “Although this G -major return
of the opening material [at m. 239] might be taken as a ‘false reprise’ or at best
as a very strange type of recapitulation, it nevertheless functions very well as
the nearest equivalent of the point of recapitulation. And from this point of
recapitulation (at m. 239) to the end of the movement at m. 476 is again exactly
the same distance—238 measures! Thus, the movement can be seen, as it has
been by some observers, to divide symmetrically when mm. 238–39 are taken
as the midpoint.”
 Richards, Transforming Form 79
Figure 2. Lockwood’s Form Diagram of the Scherzo

same thing in the autograph of the quartet’s first movement, which is

indisputably in sonata form.7 While Lockwood is surely correct that the
material within the cancelled repeat sign’s bounds are a development
and recapitulation in the manner of a sonata form, he leaves unanswered
the question of the exposition’s organization. While this may seem to be
an unimportant detail, it is in fact a crucial one and is the most common
problem in sonata-form views of the movement. After all, how does one
know that one has heard an exposition without knowing that one has
heard its constituent formal functions, that is, main theme, transition,
subordinate theme, and closing section? It would seem, then, that the
exposition in these cases is based on a sort of deductive reasoning: if
we have had a development and a recapitulation, we must have had an
exposition as well. But why must this be true? If the components of a
large section are not arranged as in an exposition (or more accurately
in this case, they well exceed the bounds of an exposition), then such a
label becomes inappropriate despite its appealing consistency with the
rest of the form.
Related to this problem of expositional breakdown is the iden-
tification of the subordinate theme, a role which in most sonata-form
analyses of the movement is assigned to the theme in F minor that
begins at m. 115. Certainly the allure of this view is the theme’s tonal-
ity, being the dominant of the movement, but even in this respect it is
flawed as it is completely in the minor mode. Of course, sonata forms in
the major mode are filled with minor-mode colorings of the dominant
in subordinate themes, but never do such colorings entirely replace the
major mode in classical works. More troubling in this scherzo, however,
is the fact that a subordinate theme appears to have already sounded
in the key of D minor. While Leonard Ratner considers this D-minor
theme to be the first episode in an incomplete seven-part rondo design
that runs the length of the putative exposition, there remains the ques-
tion of why one ought to call this entire large section (mm. 1–154) an
exposition at all when it is not structured as such. Furthermore, the

7
Lockwood, “A Problem of Form,” 90–91.
80 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
D-minor theme is followed immediately by the main theme in the
home key at m. 68. If understood to occur within the exposition, this
return of the main theme contradicts the exposition’s goal of establish-
ing a non-tonic key in the subordinate theme group.8
Explanations for this main-theme return have proposed a double
exposition format, either as a variation of the classical concerto or a
design with a written-out expositional repeat.9 If this were a double
exposition, then certainly the content of the two expositions would be
very closely related in order to clarify the perception that the second
is a varied form of the first. But this is not what happens. While the
first nineteen measures of the putative second exposition are an obvious
analog to mm. 1–16 of the main theme, what follows for the remainder
of this “exposition” is quite unlike the material of the first exposition.
With such divergence between the two, it becomes difficult to speak
of a double-exposition design, even with the common addition of one
or more new themes as in the solo exposition of a concerto—the two
“expositions” are just too different. As Del Mar remarks, “even if the
term exposition 2 were applied only to mm. 68–90 in an analogy of a
first-movement exposition repeat, it would fail to be convincing: such a
varied exposition repeat, within a true sonata-form framework, is surely
unknown.”10
Another considerable obstacle concerns the overall design of the
F-minor theme beginning at m. 115. Generally speaking, subordinate
themes express a high degree of form-functional looseness, William E.
Caplin’s term for a host of compositional devices that essentially serve
to destabilize a theme in some way. From this perspective, viewing the
F-minor theme as a subordinate theme is once again highly suspect,
for it is not very loose at all, but in fact quite tight-knit for a number

8
It is for this reason that Abraham, Beethoven’s Second-Period Quartets,
19, hears the “second group” as beginning with the theme in F minor at m. 115
and not with the theme in D minor. Indeed, he refers to the D-minor theme
as a “pseudo-transition” because it leads back to the tonic and not to the key
of the second group. Similarly, Shepherd, The String Quartets of Ludwig van
Beethoven, 29–30, refers to the F-minor theme as “the true subordinate theme,”
implying that there had been a false subordinate theme sometime beforehand
(probably the D-minor theme).
9
Barry, “Dialectical Structure in Action,” 20, suggests the concerto
influence, and Lockwood, “A Problem of Form,” 88, the dual-exposition format
(in his Hypothesis 2).
10
Del Mar, “A Problem Resolved?,” 166.
 Richards, Transforming Form 81
of reasons.11 To begin with, notice how square-cut the theme is: only a
single extra measure (m. 131 and its repetition in m. 144) is added to
the framework of four- and eight-measure phrases. Secondly, the theme
is structured as a rounded binary, a form that in its satisfying return of
A is inimical to a subordinate theme’s forward drive towards the crucial
new-key perfect authentic cadence (PAC). And above all, the theme
lacks techniques of cadential avoidance—deceptive, evaded, abandoned
cadences, and the like—that heighten anticipation for the new-key
PAC and are therefore much of the lifeblood of subordinate themes.
One final problem that has arisen in sonata-form analyses of the
scherzo concerns the start of the recapitulation. Of the eleven sonata-
form analyses of which I am aware that mark or imply a starting point
for the recapitulation, nine place it at either m. 259 or slightly later at
m. 265.12 At both locations, there is a clear return to tonic harmony that
neatly coincides with the start of a phrase or sub-phrase. But it must
be remembered that a recapitulation necessarily involves two signals
that are not always simultaneous: a tonal return (to the tonic harmony
of the home key) and a thematic return (to the opening material of the
main theme).13 To mention only the tonal return, as most do in this
case, is somewhat specious as recapitulations start with “the beginning”
(i.e., the thematic return) and not in medias res.14 And indeed there is a

11
For a thorough discussion and comparison of tight-knit and loose
organization, see William E. Caplin, Classical Form: A Theory of Formal Functions
for the Instrumental Music of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1998), 84–86.
12
D’Indy, Cours de Composition Musicale, vol. 2/2, 233; Abraham, Beethoven’s
Second-Period Quartets, 20; Mason, The Quartets of Beethoven, 93; Marliave,
Beethoven’s Quartets, 76–77; Lam, Beethoven String Quartets, vol. 1, 41; Radcliffe,
Beethoven’s String Quartets, 2nd ed., 55; Kramer, “Beethoven Facsimiles,” 79;
Headlam, “A Rhythmic Study,” 119n8; and Kinderman, Beethoven, 2nd ed.,
133, who seems to indicate m. 259 as the point of recapitulation when he says
that “Beethoven dovetails the end of the development with the passage from
his exposition leading to the harmonized fortissimo statement of the seminal
rhythm.”
13
This is the “double return” described by James Webster, “Sonata Form,”
in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 2nd ed., ed. Stanley Sadie
(New York: Macmillan, 2001), 23:688.
14
As noted by James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy, Elements of Sonata
Theory: Norms, Types, and Deformations in the Late-Eighteenth-Century Sonata
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 256, “since the strongest identifier
of the beginning of a rotation is the sounding of its opening module, P1.1…,
any suggestion that a recapitulatory rotation begins with a post-P1.1 module—
82 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
thematic return at m. 239, but it contains several anomalies, perhaps the
most prominent being its non-tonic key of G major, the flat submedi-
ant. While some consider this to be only a “false return” that leads to the
“true” (i.e., tonal) return, the problem remains that from this moment
the music begins to cycle through the material of the first portion, pre-
cisely in the manner of a recapitulation. More to the point, as we shall
see, is that in the scherzo the anomalies heard at the thematic return
are directly related to the course of the melodic material throughout the
movement.

ii) The Scherzo as a Fusion of Scherzo-Trio and Sonata Form

The other widely-supported view of the scherzo’s form entails

a blend of scherzo-trio alternation and sonata form with the former
being prioritized over the latter. The most detailed breakdown of the
form from this perspective is that of Jonathan Del Mar, who responded
directly to Lockwood’s article by claiming that a refined version of the
scherzo-trio/sonata-form fusion initially proposed by Joseph Kerman
better explains the form of the movement. Del Mar’s form diagram is
shown in Figure 3.15 The two rounded binary themes in F minor and B
minor are at the core of this interpretation and are understood as trios
that contrast with the surrounding sections, that is, statements of the
scherzo proper or a development section. At first glance, this may seem
to be the more tenable of the two main views since the trios correspond
with striking changes of material that are set off by decisive textural
breaks. Nevertheless, a closer look reveals inconsistencies that are just as
significant as those of the sonata-form readings.

Figure 3. Del Mar’s Form Diagram of the Scherzo

perhaps with the exposition’s second or third modules—is at least problematic

and possibly an inadequate account of the situation at hand.” They go on to cite
an off-tonic P1.1 as a possible means of beginning a recapitulation.
15
Del Mar, “A Problem Resolved?,” 170.
 Richards, Transforming Form 83
Consider the use of the term “scherzo.” Within scherzo-trio
movements in the classical style, “scherzo” refers to the scherzo proper,
and denotes some type of binary form, usually rounded, though some-
times not. In the most extreme cases, this binary form may be expanded
into a full-fledged sonata form. But the scherzo proper in Op. 59, No.
1 lacks this binary, or even sonata-form, structure. In fact, for Del Mar,
the scherzo proper contains only a single reprise that is repeated with
variation, and moreover lacks the home-key PAC that always provides
such scherzos with full closure before entering the trio. Since these are
not typical procedures for a scherzo proper, these passages clearly did
prompt the use of the term “scherzo” here. The term “trio” on the other
hand seems to fit the themes in F minor and B minor like a glove, for
trios are usually in rounded binary form, contain contrasting melodic
material, and are frequently in a minor key, all of which are present in
these themes. It appears, then, that the use of the term “scherzo” has
been prompted by the same sort of deductive reasoning we saw in the
sonata-form view: if we have a trio, we must have had a corresponding
scherzo immediately beforehand. But once again, if what precedes this
trio is not a scherzo, then it becomes highly doubtful that the scherzo-
trio model is at work at all in this movement.
Also consider the use of terminology in scherzo-trio analyses.
Although the claim is that the scherzo-trio model takes precedence
over the sonata-form elements, the terms of “development” and “reca-
pitulation” are present in nearly all such analyses. And even though Del
Mar eschews a label of “exposition” for his scherzo proper, his break-
down of the section, shown in Figure 4, clearly delineates a double-
exposition format akin to those discussed earlier. Thus, sonata-form
concepts underlie even the scherzo proper sections of the movement.16
Indeed, were it not for the problematic passage from the first return of
the main theme to the end of the trio (mm. 68–148) and its analog in
the recapitulation, the movement would not have caused the fuss it has
among scholars as it would then fall into a recognizable sonata-form
pattern throughout.

16
Along similar lines, Lockwood, in responding to Del Mar, indicates
that “since Del Mar incorporates the terms and concepts of ‘development’ and
‘recapitulation’ into his formal hypothesis it’s clear that to account for even
the bare bones of this complex movement he needs sonata-form terminology
not normally found in outlines of scherzo-trio movements. See “Response by
Lewis Lockwood,” Beethoven Forum 8 (2008): 170.
84 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
Figure 4. Del Mar’s Analysis of the Scherzo Proper Portion

As was shown in Figure 1, I regard this problematic passage essen-

tially as conforming to a sonata-rondo design. But why should sonata-
rondo be employed at all in this movement? After all, that form has
nothing to do with the tradition of binary forms that dominate classical
scherzos and minuets. What I am proposing is that the unique struc-
ture of the movement is the result of the unusually close relationship
between its form and melodic content. In short, the process of becom-
ing that governs the movement’s form is deeply rooted in the gradual
transformation of the main theme’s melodic content.

II. The “Missing Melody” of the Scherzo

The observation that the scherzo of Op. 59, No. 1 is missing a

melody at its outset dates back to the quartet’s premiere in 1812, when
the famous cellist Bernhard Romberg notoriously stomped on his part
after playing the solo of the first four measures in protest over its ap-
parent ridiculousness.17 To make sense of such a peculiarly tuneless
opening, Daniel Gregory Mason proposes that “this may be an extreme
case of its composer’s fondness for beginning with only tentative forms
of his ideas, inviting us to follow him step by step as he realizes them.”
In particular, Mason suggests that the main theme’s melody actually
enters at m. 101 and that the D-minor melody at m. 40 and the return
of the main theme at m. 72 are “approach shots” at this later profile. He
then concludes that the movement’s opening cello rhythm “is engaged
all this while, as César Franck said of a theme in one of his Chorales, in
‘making itself.’”18
Kerman recognizes the same processual quality of the main theme,
and pursues the idea further, noting that “at the start, thematic mate-
rial is presented in what Tovey would call ‘a vision of dry bones,’” a

17
Wilhelm von Lenz, Beethoven: Eine Kunst-Studie, vol. 3 (Hamburg:
Hoffman and Campe, 1860), 30.
18
Mason, The Quartets of Beethoven, 92–93.
 Richards, Transforming Form 85
provocative description, since, in the analysis to which Kerman refers
(of the finale to Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony), Tovey colorfully sug-
gests that “the whole Bass proceeds to put on clothes, of a respectable
contrapuntal cut.”19 Kerman then demonstrates how this vision—that
is, the unadorned bass line—is “bodied forth” through various contra-
puntal combinations at mm. 101, 239, and 304. These examples lead to
a similar claim to that of Mason, namely that “what seems to be central
to this Allegretto vivace e sempre scherzando is not counterpoint in the
ordinary sense, but the very process of bodying out.”20
Another similar view is given by William Kinderman when he
writes of the scherzo that

Beethoven experiments here . . . with the notion that a piece may

be conceived as a search for its own thematic material. He begins
with a mere abstract of a seminal rhythm, tapped out softly in the
cello on a single stationary pitch. Motivic fragments are juxtaposed
long before they are eventually assembled as the ‘completed’ theme.
Only in bar 29 is the bare rhythm from the outset filled out har-
monically and dynamically, and only near the end of the first subject
group is this harmonized rhythm to be combined with an upper-
line melody.21

Clearly, then, the transformative nature of the main theme is

crucial to an understanding of the movement. But surprisingly, this
aspect of the movement is never called upon to explain why the scher-
zo’s form takes precisely the shape it does, a fact that betrays a strong
harmonic bias in the analysis of classical form.22 I therefore suggest that
a more comprehensive reading of the scherzo’s form rests with a deeper
consideration of the main theme’s transformation and its interactions
with the expectations of traditional formal structures.

19
Donald Francis Tovey, Essays in Musical Analysis, vol. 1 (London:
Oxford University Press, 1935), 33.
20
Kerman, The Beethoven Quartets, 103–5.
21
Kinderman, Beethoven, 133.
22
Hence I argue elsewhere that melody plays a more significant role in
classical form than previously thought. See “Closure in Classical Themes: The
Role of Melody and Texture in Cadences, Closural Function, and the Separated
Cadence,” Intersections: Canadian Journal of Music 31/1 (2010): 25–31. For a
similar argument, see James Hepokoski, “Comments on William E. Caplin’s
Essay ‘What are Formal Functions?’,” in Musical Form, Forms, & Formenlehre
(Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2009), 42–43.
86 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
III. Schmalfeldt’s “Process of Becoming”

Kerman’s comment that the whole point of the scherzo seems to

be “the very process of bodying out” its main-theme material is an astute
one. His suggestions that the movement indeed undergoes a process is
central, since part of the reason that the movement’s structure is so
elusive is that it does not remain in a single form throughout. The idea
of form as process has most recently and elaborately been worked out
by Schmalfeldt, who has demonstrated how her “process of becoming”
operates in the works of several early-nineteenth-century composers,
Beethoven being foremost among them. As Schmalfeldt explains,

toward the end of the eighteenth century and into the next, new
compositional approaches to certain, by then well-established con-
ventions of musical form seemed intent upon shifting our focus
away from the perception of forms as the product of successive,
functionally discrete sections within a whole. Instead, these new ap-
proaches encouraged the idea that the formal process itself becomes
“the form.” Listeners of this kind of music are being asked to par-
ticipate within that process, by listening backward as well as in the
moment – by remembering what they have heard, while retrospec-
tively reinterpreting formal functions in the light of an awareness of
the interplay between conventions and transformations.23

Schmalfeldt’s analytical symbol for a process of becoming is

the double-lined arrow ( ); thus, an introduction that becomes a
main theme, for example, would be represented by the expression
“Introduction Main Theme.” But as she points out, in such an ex-
pression, the retrospective reinterpretation does not eliminate one in-
terpretation in favor of another, but rather “the expression in its entirety
serves to represent the formal function, and its central element—the
‘becoming’ sign—stands for the central idea to be conveyed.”24
In applying this principle to analysis, Schmalfeldt states that “the
central concept of Caplin’s Formenlehre—his theory of formal func-
tions and their associations with specific moments in musical time—
plays the leading role in my associations with specific processes and
transformations.”25 And through Schmalfeldt’s book, it becomes clear
that the units of form that undergo a process of becoming are either the

23
Schmalfeldt, In the Process of Becoming, 116 (emphases original).
24
Ibid., 12 (emphasis original).
25
Ibid., 16.
 Richards, Transforming Form 87
smaller formal functions such as “basic ideas,” “continuations,” and so
on, that make up themes, or they are the larger themes and similar the-
matic units themselves such as “main theme,” “transition,” and so on. It
may seem strange, then, that Schmalfeldt never applies the idea on the
scale I suggest here, an entire movement. This absence speaks not to a
limitation of the idea itself but rather to the exceedingly odd treatment
of form that renders the scherzo of Op. 59, No. 1 the unique movement
that it is. After all, as Kerman points out in reference to his “bodying
out” comment, Beethoven “never elsewhere worked in just this way.”26
The problem of form in the scherzo is therefore an idiosyncratic one
that demands an equally idiosyncratic solution.

IV. The Becoming of Form in the Scherzo

Almost every published analysis of the scherzo that at all ad-

dresses its form employs sonata-form terminology in some way. And
yet, through its missing melody, the scherzo appears to lack the very
thing that ought to ignite the sonata-form engine at its outset: a char-
acteristic melodic figure to begin the main theme.27 What would the
first movement of Beethoven’s Fifth, for instance, be without its famous
four-note motive? No doubt it is this all-too-obvious dearth in the
scherzo that caused Romberg to dismiss the movement underfoot.
Nevertheless, there are certain portions of the movement that contain
normative sonata-form procedures. Measures 1–67, for example, com-
prise a fairly typical sonata exposition (though the subordinate theme
is in the unusual key of iii, D minor) and mm. 155–238 a relatively
straightforward development section. But the music in between these
sections causes an analytical problem, for it intervenes between an ex-
position and development with two references to main-theme mate-
rial, modulatory material, and a tonally-closed rounded-binary theme.
Moreover, mm. 239–393 have the distinct sense of a recapitulation, but
include this same intervening material and thus, if mm. 1–67 constitute
an exposition, their later analog seems to stretch beyond the confines
of a normative recapitulation. How is one to interpret these enigmatic
events? As I outlined in Figure 1, I consider the scherzo to be neither a
sonata form throughout nor an admixture of sonata form and scherzo-

26
Kerman, The Beethoven Quartets, 105.
27
As Caplin, Classical Form, 37, points out, a characteristic melody is one
of the typical features of a basic idea, the unit of form that always begins a
theme.
88 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
trio form, but rather a process of becoming from sonata-rondo to sonata
form that occurs in three distinct portions: a sonata-rondo portion, a
portion of becoming, and a sonata-form portion. Furthermore, I argue
that this process of becoming in the movement’s form is brought about
by the exigencies of the main theme and its initially absent melodic
material.28

i) The Sonata-Rondo Portion (mm. 1–154)

Beethoven wrote some of his scherzos in sonata form, but never in

sonata-rondo.29 So, why would a partial sonata-rondo appear in Op. 59,
No. 1? To answer this question, we might best begin by zeroing in on
the ever-changing main-theme material. The main theme’s melodic de-
ficiency at the movement’s start sends the music off in search of appro-
priate material for this purpose. Ultimately, this search is rewarded with
a final profile for the main theme, but not until the movement is nearly
over, at m. 420 in the coda, where a suitable melody is finally paired with
the opening bass rhythm in the tonic key. The entire movement may
therefore be viewed as an enormous journey towards this final passage
of culmination, and the originality of the movement’s form a product of
the means by which this journey is carried out. One could even say that,
all along, the movement attempts to be in sonata form (as the other

28
Some readers may feel that the movement conforms more strongly to a
sonata-rondo throughout. Such a view, however, essentially “normalizes” what
is an exceedingly abnormal piece. In a typical sonata-rondo, the exposition
comprises the A and B themes (the main and subordinate themes of a
typical sonata form). The recapitulation then comprises these same A and B
themes (now in the tonic) and leads to another statement of A as a coda. In
this scherzo, however, the music does not move on to different material after
the recapitulation’s A and B themes, but rather continues to cycle through the
material of the first half in the manner of a “recapitulatory rotation,” to use
Hepokoski and Darcy’s term. In other words, when A returns in the second
half at m. 304 (where one would normally expect a coda to begin), we know we
are hearing an analog of m. 68 (the first return of A in the first half ) and not
merely another instance of A that would begin another rotation. The ongoing
rotation ends only with m. 394, where material that began the development
section recurs, a tactic Beethoven favored for beginning codas in his sonata
forms. Hence my placement of the coda at m. 394 and not at m. 304, where the
demands of a sonata-rondo recapitulation would seem to have been completed.
29
Examples include the second movements of the String Quartet in C
minor, Op. 18, No. 4; the Piano Sonata in E major, Op. 31, No. 3; and the
Ninth Symphony.
 Richards, Transforming Form 89
three movements of this quartet are) since that form is ideal for the kind
of organic development that the scherzo clearly employs throughout.
The scherzo’s melodic deficiency, however, necessitates a formal shape
that allows for more “approach shots,” to use Mason’s term, at the main
theme’s final profile. These added approach shots lend a sonata-rondo
design—with some sonata-form leanings—to the first of the move-
ment’s three portions.
The material of the movement’s first sixteen measures comprises
two distinct figures: the repeated-note bass line that, after Tovey, may
be called the “dry bones” figure, and the melodic “snippet” that follows
it both times in one of the violins. While certainly melodic, the snip-
pets’ delayed arrival prevents them from serving as the missing melody
of the theme’s opening. Put another way, they seem to complement
the dry bones in the manner of a “contrasting idea” to a “basic idea,” to
use Caplin’s terminology.30 Likewise, the charming lyrical melody that
appears a little later at m. 23 serves a cadential role (as governed by its
supporting cadential progressions) and thus cannot substitute for the
theme’s beginning.31
Once the main theme comes to a close at m. 29 with a PAC, the
movement immediately attempts to rectify the tunelessness of the
theme’s opening. The first attempt is to fill out the harmony of the dry
bones into full chords, fortissimo, in all parts, a tactic that results in a
more convincing starting point but that still lacks a melodic profile.
Moreover, with the modulation that quickly follows, we understand

30
For definitions of these terms, see Caplin, Classical Form, 253 and 254.
31
In the present conception of the movement, each “approach shot” at
the main theme begins with a unit of initiating function (i.e., a basic idea).
Some statements of the dry bones figure are clearly not initiating in function,
for instance at m. 62 and its analog, m. 298, which are both post-cadential.
These I do not consider approach shots because it is not possible to hear them
as beginnings. Rather, they are preparations for the return of the main theme,
reminders that a main theme melody ought to incorporate the dry bones (the
true beginning of the main theme) and not the melodic snippets. By contrast,
when the dry bones figure enters at m. 1 and m. 68, its function may seem to
be introductory, with the theme proper beginning four measures later. But in
essence the dry bones figure is accompanimental material and thus suggests
that we should be hearing a melody along with it. When the figure comes to an
end without having accompanied anything at all, we feel strangely bereft and
perhaps a little ridiculous, as though we have been made to watch a podium
without an orator. Much like viewing the entire movement as a sonata-rondo
then, interpreting the figure as an introduction would “normalize” what is
especially abnormal about this opening.
90 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
that the formal function of this passage is not that of a main theme at
all, but a transition that may be considered “dependent” since it begins
as a restatement of main-theme material. This distinction in formal
function is an important one since it becomes clear that the restatement
here serves to drive the form towards the subordinate theme rather
than compensate for the main theme’s deficiency. In a similar way, there
might seem to be compensation at m. 39, where the snippets are re-
worked into a true melody. However, they are set in D minor and func-
tion as the subordinate theme rather than the main theme. Again, there
is no sense of compensation, only unsuccessful attempts at a theme not
yet realized.
After a short codetta on the dry bones, a modulating retransi-
tion brings the music back to the home key for a return of the main
theme. Now had the scherzo been a sonata form through and through,
the development section would surely have followed on the heels of
this retransition, but with the return of the main theme, especially in
varied and abbreviated form (it breaks off after nineteen measures),
the form cannot be but a sonata-rondo at this point. The sonata-rondo
design prevents the movement from straying too far from its original
premise—of finding a main-theme melody—by directly returning to
the main theme itself and allowing yet another approach shot to take
place. In this statement of the main theme, the snippets are slightly
varied in contour and rhythmically shifted to begin on a downbeat, as
though refining themselves towards the more characteristic, “catchy”
style of music generally heard at thematic beginnings. The dry bones,
however, are still as bare as they were at the start of the movement, and
hence the search for a tune continues despite the catchier sound of the
snippets.
What happens next is not at all what is expected in a sonata-ron-
do: the main theme, which at m. 79 is altered to sound an A-major
instead of an A -major chord, is interrupted by a modulatory progres-
sion through the dominant of A minor and D minor, finally landing on
what turns out to be the dominant of G minor. Thereafter are nine mea-
sures of a rhythmically-charged and mostly fortissimo standing on the
dominant in G minor. Modulation, standing on the dominant, vigorous
rhythm, loud dynamic—these are all tell-tale signs of a sonata transi-
tion, which is not typical of sonata-rondos after the first return. Usually,
either the main theme return is closed off with a cadence or it moves
without a cadence into an interior theme or development section. The
scherzo does neither, instead turning to the conventions of sonata tran-
sitions, even to the extent of sounding an apparent medial caesura in
 Richards, Transforming Form 91
mm. 99–100 in anticipation of a second subordinate theme in G minor.
All this transitional behavior makes us question whether the form is not
on its way to becoming something unique—perhaps the sonata form
with two expositions that some have proposed.
As it turns out, the standing on the dominant loses its nerve at the
last moment, yielding to a hushed pianissimo at m. 99, then a brief re-
transition that returns again to the home key for main-theme material.
This type of situation is essentially a subtype of Hepokoski and Darcy’s
“medial caesura declined,” in which a “proposed” medial caesura (MC)
fails to enter a secondary theme zone (subordinate theme) due to the
reappearance of the primary theme (main theme) in the tonic.32 Once
again, however, the main-theme material has changed: the dry bones
figure is in the two lower parts but now forms an accompaniment to
the reshaped, “catchier” snippets, which appear in the violins. With a
full-blown tune at its start, this may seem to be a successful main theme,
especially as it is asserted in a proud fortissimo.33 The only problem is
that, as with all cases of MC-declined, this material is still a part of
the transition. (Indeed, from the perspective of Caplin’s theory, it forms
the second part of a two-part transition.)34 Like the movement’s initial
fortissimo outburst at m. 29, the function of this main-theme material
is not to compensate for the flawed opening, but to prepare for a new
theme, which is confirmed with a modulation to F major, a half cadence
in that key, and at m. 112 an MC with three subsequent measures of
caesura-fill.

32
Cf. Hepokoski and Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory, 45: “The subse-
quent music may decline an apparent MC in a number of ways. One is by
returning to the P theme, still in the tonic, as if re-beginning.” Although the
authors note that the preparatory cadence for the MC in such cases is usually
a I:HC (half cadence in the tonic key), whereas here it is a half cadence in the
submediant, it is not difficult to comprehend the situation in the scherzo as an
unusual (or “deformational,” to use Hepokoski and Darcy’s term) instance of
the same phenomemon, especially considering the unusual nature of the move-
ment as a whole.
33
This is surely why Mason, The Quartets of Beethoven, 92, hears this
moment as the true main theme of the movement.
34
Caplin, Classical Form, 258, defines a two-part transition as “a transition
whose first part is nonmodulatory and closes with the home-key dominant
and whose second part, often beginning with reference to main-theme ideas,
modulates to the subordinate key and closes there with dominant harmony.” As
with the notion of MC declined, the situation in the scherzo must be viewed
as a non-normative type of two-part transition since its first part ends on the
dominant of the submediant rather than the home-key dominant.
92 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
While this lengthy transition does not destroy the sonata-rondo
design,35 its presence begins to suggest a sonata form (albeit, an unusual
one with two expositions) that is just beneath the surface, ready to burst
forth and take control of the movement. Were this to occur, the MC in
F major would surely be followed by a subordinate theme. What actu-
ally sounds, however, is the F-minor theme, a sure sign that we are still
in the midst of a sonata-rondo and not some type of sonata form—at
least not yet. This theme’s minor-mode setting, rounded binary form (in
which the second reprise is repeated), and relatively square tight-knit
structure (4 + 4, 9 + 4, 9 + 4) are all markers of an “interior theme” in a
sonata-rondo.36 Thus, the sonata-rondo design is strongly reaffirmed,
denying the sonata-form potential of the preceding transition.
Although such a theme is expected in a sonata-rondo, its place-
ment here does more than just follow a formal script. The movement
has now made five attempts at producing a main-theme melody (in-
cluding one in the subordinate theme and two in the second transi-
tion), none of which has produced a satisfactory result. The F-minor
theme may therefore be heard as a (mock?) sorrowful commentary on
the movement’s failure to do so.37 This would explain why the theme is
in the minor mode of the dominant, a key that would normally be major
in a major-mode piece, but here is cast in high relief with its minor col-
oring. Moreover, the theme sharply contrasts with the preceding music
not only in its unusual key but also in its motivic content, and its tight-
knit rounded binary form. As Del Mar observes, it “clearly bears no
relation to anything in the scherzo” and in this sense provides a much

35
Caplin, Classical Form, 238, indicates that a transition is sometimes
heard leading to the interior theme in a sonata-rondo.
36
According to Caplin, Classical Form, 255, an interior theme comprises
“a medial interthematic function, standing between statements of a main
theme, that is modeled largely on the small ternary [i.e., rounded binary] or
small binary forms. It resides in the contrasting modality of the main theme
(minore or maggiore) or in the subdominant or submediant regions.” To this
definition, I would add that most interior themes are relatively tight-knit in
organization, often to approximately the same degree as the main theme (quite
a different strategy from the typical subordinate theme, which is usually more
loosely organized than the main theme). As with the preceding transition in
the scherzo, that the minor mode of this interior theme is that of the dominant
and not the tonic must be regarded as a non-normative variation of standard
practice.
37
See below (in “The Sonata-Form Portion”) on the likely mock-
seriousness of these interior themes.
 Richards, Transforming Form 93
needed respite from the search for a suitable main theme.38 This first
large portion of the movement comes to an end with a set of codettas
confirming the F-minor tonality and a retransition moving into the key
of D major in preparation for the next large portion at m. 155.

ii) The Sonata-Rondo Sonata Form Portion (mm. 155–353)

As mentioned earlier, Lockwood’s examination of the autograph

of the scherzo reveals m. 155 to be a large-scale divide in the form on
account of a repeat sign that Beethoven omitted there. This being the
case, it is not difficult to hear that measure as the start of a develop-
ment section since the entire passage is tonally unstable and based on
recombinations of main-theme material. Although a development is
commonly the central section of a sonata-rondo, its appearance here
is odd as it follows the interior theme rather than substituting for it. Is
this development, then, part of an extended “section C” of the sonata-
rondo, or is it part of a reorientation of the movement into sonata form?
Because a development section is often the central section of a sonata-
rondo, it can hardly be considered a paradox that overturns the form.
Instead, at this point, we are more likely to hear the development as the
second part of a central section that is subdivided in two. Yet at the same
time, that a sonata-form interpretation of this development remains a
less likely possibility is crucial to the transformation of the form since it
allows for a retrospective reinterpretation later on.
One persisting question about this development, however, is why
it appears at all—what is its purpose here? If a suitable central section
has already been provided by the interior theme, why bother extending
the central section? As argued above, the interior theme could well rep-
resent a tongue-in-cheek dejection of the movement’s failure to find a
suitable melody. But if the scherzo is going to achieve its goal, seeming
to wallow in despair is not going to bring it about—the movement is
going to have to “change its tune” in more ways than one. With the
development section at m. 155, the music is re-energized and begins its
task anew by developing portions of the main theme in various ways, as
though brainstorming for just the right idea.
In fact, the melodic quest attains a renewed intensity here as the
entire development section is devoted exclusively to material from the
main theme. And since the movement seeks an improved beginning to
that theme, it is significant that none of the form-functional beginnings

38
Del Mar, “A Problem Resolved?,” 166.
94 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
in this development contain the dry bones figure as it appears in the
main theme. In other words, despite all the reworkings of the main-
theme material, there is nothing in this development that sounds like
it could act as an improved main theme: m. 155 reworks the melodic
“snippets”; m. 177 is a pleasant tune based on the dry bones, but is too
far removed from the original to be heard as the main theme itself; and
m. 213 employs the altered form of the snippets in what sounds like a
beginning, but in a troubled minor mode and a timid pianissimo, which
are anything but signs of success.39 Even when the dry bones figure does
appear in its original form at m. 193, it functions not as a beginning, but
as the fragmentation portion of a large development core beginning at
m. 177. Thus, the music presses on in search of a main-theme beginning.
Measure 239 begins the second of the movement’s equal-length
halves, and with it comes something familiar yet strange: the material
retraces the original main theme but begins in a non-tonic key (G
major) with a new counterpoint and the dry bones figure cast into a
high register. Is this a recapitulation or not? The off-tonic return of m.
239 does not exclude the possibility of a recapitulation since the most
significant element of recapitulation is the return of the main theme’s
opening (the thematic return). It is therefore possible to hear the point
of recapitulation at m. 239 despite its being set in G . While there are
several other instances of off-tonic recapitulations in Beethoven, this
one is undoubtedly related to the movement’s melodic quest.40 As
discussed, all that has preceded m. 239—that is, the movement’s first
half—has been dominated by the search for an appropriate melody to
begin the main theme, as the dry bones simply will not do. Here at m.
239, at long last, we have just such a melody in the second violin: against
the dry bones figure, which is now high up in the first violin, appears a
new melodic counterpoint. But this melody is in the wrong key and is
somewhat innocuous as it lies beneath the first violin. Nevertheless, the
fact that this counterpoint is indeed the sought-after idea is confirmed
by its recurrence in each subsequent statement of the dry bones heard

39
A new beginning may seem to occur at m. 171, but due to the harmony
of this passage, and its location after much continuational activity, its function
is surely cadential, as it was in the main theme itself.
40
Other examples include the finale of this same quartet, which begins in
IV; the Coriolan Overture, which similarly begins in iv; the Piano Sonata in F
major, Op. 10, No. 2, I, which famously begins in VI (D major); the Piano Trio in
E major, Op. 70, No. 2, I, which begins in VII before returning surreptitiously
to the tonic; and the Kreutzer Sonata, Op. 47, finale, which reharmonizes the
opening of the original A-major theme in vi.
 Richards, Transforming Form 95
in the context of a main theme function, that is, at m. 246 (in the viola),
in slightly altered form at m. 304 (first violin) and m. 315 (viola), and
finally in the coda at m. 420 (first violin) and m. 428 (second violin).
The problem with all but the last two of these statements is the
theme’s tonality. In the recapitulation each statement is in a non-tonic
key, hence withholding the tonal resolution of the theme until its final
appearance in the coda. In this way, the recapitulation acts as a parallel
to the first half of the movement: whereas the first half is driven by a
melodic deficiency in the main theme, the second half is driven by a
tonal one in the same (see Figure 5). By contrast, the keys of both the
subordinate theme and interior theme are transposed down a fifth, and
hence the recapitulation still manages to fulfill its traditional role of
resolution in its other subsections.

Figure 5. Main-Theme Deficiency in Each Half of the Movement

But now we are faced with another formal problem, for an interior
theme is not a part of the recapitulation in sonata-rondo. Rather, it
always appears only as the central section, though it may be alluded to
in the movement’s coda. So why, then, is it recapitulated in full in this
scherzo, transposed from F minor to the tonic minor, B minor, at m.
354?

iii) The Sonata-Form Portion

The third and final portion of the movement begins with the re-
capitulated interior theme, an event that forces us to retrospectively
re-evaluate our perception of the movement’s form. Up until the de-
velopment section, the movement worked fairly well as a sonata-rondo.
The appearance of a second transition before the interior theme and
a development thereafter was unusual and raised the possibility of a
sonata form. But without more evidence, the sonata-rondo design re-
mained intact, albeit atypical. The same can be said of almost all of the
recapitulation since its structure conforms with the expectations of a
sonata-rondo. Upon reaching the interior theme once more, however,
96 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
we understand that the movement is recapitulating all of the material
preceding the development section, something that never happens in a
sonata-rondo—hence, the paradox of the movement’s form.
The recapitulation of a theme in the tonic is of course in keeping
with a sonata-form design. Yet this interpretation would require the
“exposition” to comprise everything up to the development section—
not only the main theme, transition, and subordinate theme, but the first
return, second transition, and interior theme as well. As stated earlier,
these elements delineate a sonata-rondo design with hints of a latent
sonata form. Had the form continued along the lines of a sonata-rondo,
the interior theme would not have reappeared, much less be transposed.
Hence, the sonata-rondo design is contradicted in a fundamental way,
causing a retrospective reinterpretation of the music from the develop-
ment to this point. With this return to the interior theme, then, the
second half of the movement behaves as a sonata form, as though the
elements of the first half had been a regular exposition. And the move-
ment, which began as a sonata-rondo with sonata-form leanings, has
now in this second half become a sonata form, realizing what has been a
persistent potential in the movement’s form, as shown in Figure 6. This
is not to say that the sonata form somehow replaces the sonata-rondo
in this portion. As Schmalfeldt clarifies, within a process of becoming,
“the original perception still exists; it has not disappeared; it has been
overturned but at the same time preserved.”41 It is this effect of over-
turning, yet still preserving, a possible reading that is the defining char-
acteristic of such a process and indeed of this portion of the movement’s
form. More importantly, this characteristic has been brought about by
the demands of the movement’s quest for melodic material.
As I have argued, the first time the interior theme appears, through
its stark contrast with the preceding music it represents a mock sorrow-
ful commentary on the inability to find appropriate main-theme ma-
terial. While the “right” idea has been discovered and applied to both
main-theme statements in the recapitulation, the right tonality has not,
and thus there is still grounds for apparent despair—will a suitable main
theme never come? Such a theme is right around the corner, so to speak,
and thus the interior theme plays an important role in highlighting
the resolution of the main theme by setting it in relief. The interven-
ing material between the two heightens the drama by first beginning
the coda with a feigned recapitulation of the development (a move
that, had it been carried to completion, would have set a precedent for

41
Schmalfeldt, In the Process of Becoming, 19.
 SONATA SONATA
FORM? NO! FORM?
SONATA-RONDO SONATA-RONDO SONATA FORM
Exposition Development
A B A C
MT TR(MT) ST CL RT MT TR (MT) IT RT (MT) (MT) (MT)
Measure 1 29 39 62 65 68 87 101 115 148 155 177 193
Key I iii________ I I v III, II II, VI II ,VI ,iii

YES!
SONATA FORM
Coda
A B A C
MT TR(MT) ST CL RT MT TR (MT) IT RT (MT) MT (MT)
Richards, Transforming Form

Measure 239 265 275 298 300 304 323 337 354 387 394 420 460
Key VI, III,I vi________ V I i VI I, IV I

MT = Main Theme TR = Transition ST = Subordinate Theme

CL = Closing Section (i.e., codettas) IT = Interior Theme RT = Retransition
Figure 6. Sonata-Form Implications and Realization in the Scherzo

( ) = derived from (previous material) = modulating

97
98 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
Schumann’s beloved “parallel form”), then through an extended crescen-
do that reaches its apex just before the main theme’s final statement.42
With this last appearance at m. 420, the main theme is presented
in its most satisfying form in the whole movement as it now states the
dry bones figure together with the new melody in the tonic key. And
while it is true that the entire theme now functions as a “coda theme,”
we have no difficulty in accepting it as the long sought-after main
theme since one of the primary functions of a coda is to compensate
for any shortcomings in the movement.43 This final entry, a complete
restatement of the original main theme’s material (with some variation),
is a main-theme substitute—a corrected form that represents the telos
of the entire scherzo.
Instead of closing this theme as before with a fortissimo PAC,
however, and ending the movement with a triumphant flourish,
Beethoven diverts the harmony at m. 346 with a questioning dimin-
ished seventh chord on F —now it is the end of the theme that is
problematized! Compounding this problem is the restatement of the
theme’s cadential portion four measures later at m. 350 in the remote
key of E minor, a tritone’s distance from the tonic B . This key proves
only to be a harmonic sleight of hand as E minor quickly dissolves away
and B major re-emerges after another four measures. But we are not
out of the woods just yet—Beethoven toys with the theme’s cadence
one last time. At m. 469, the final dominant is sounded in an under-
stated pizzicato and the music seems to lose its way, again with the
problematizing note of G /F , before promptly regaining the correct
dominant note, F, in the viola and concluding the movement with four
measures of resounding tonic.44
What these cadential diversions seem to indicate is the playful-
ness of the movement’s extensive quest. Even though this movement’s
search for a proper main theme is similar to the first movement of the
Eroica Symphony (written only three years prior to Op. 59, No. 1), in

42
“Parallel form” was coined by Linda Correll Roesner in “Schumann’s
‘Parallel’ Forms,” 19th-Century Music 14, no. 3 (1991): 265–78.
43
Caplin, Classical Form, 253, defines a coda theme as, “in a coda, a theme
that closes with a home-key perfect authentic cadence. It usually features
loosening devices typical of a subordinate theme.”
44
Barry, “Dialectical Structure in Action,” 29–30, demonstrates the
disruptive nature of G /F in the movement, in particular in the development
section in all parts just before the B-major passage, and here in the coda just
before the E minor passage in the cello part.
 Richards, Transforming Form 99
character the two could not be more opposed.45 The Eroica’s famously
monumental journey takes on a decisively serious character through its
larger-than-life grandiosity. In the quartet scherzo on the other hand,
the near constant staccato sixteenths, prevalence of soft dynamics, and
rapid harmonic diversions combine to create a playful character typical
of the scherzo genre. In this light, the scherzo’s several sections in the
minor mode are perhaps best interpreted as evoking a mock-seriousness
that never attains the gravitas of true tragedy. (Consider, for instance,
the continual outbursts in these sections of jocund staccato sixteenths
that bear a striking resemblance to the scalewise descents of the melodic
snippets in the opening main theme.) In short, by the end of the move-
ment, one is left with the distinct impression that this has all been a
fantastic joke, an aptly contrasting sentiment to express between the
weighty seriousness of the first movement and the lamentful anguish of
the slow third movement.

Conclusion

The scherzo of Op. 59, No. 1 presents a unique combination of

formal elements that cannot be classified under a single traditional
rubric. Although it incorporates features of sonata-rondo and sonata
form, neither form can explain the movement in its entirety without
being distorted beyond recognition. The key to understanding this be-
wildering movement is in the metamorphosis of its main theme materi-
al, which begins as a “dry bones” figure of nothing more than a rhythmi-
cized repeated note, and ends as a fully-formed theme complete with a
distinctive melody. This journey from bare bones to fully clothed occurs
over three portions: a sonata-rondo portion, a portion of becoming, and
a sonata-form portion. Moreover, the piece falls into two equal halves,
each of which seeks to rectify one aspect of the main theme. The first
half is devoted to the search for a suitable melody, the second half with
reclaiming the theme’s tonic setting. These corrected aspects are united
in the coda, where the theme makes a final and complete appearance.

45
See, for instance, Scott Burnham, Beethoven Hero (Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1995), 18–19, who says of the Eroica’s coda that
“the first theme is provided with a regular harmonic underpinning of tonic
and dominant and regular four-plus-four phrasing. The power of this square
treatment of the theme is precisely in its presentation: the theme becomes more
like a real theme, for it is now an actual melody.” Hence, like the scherzo of Op.
59, No. 1, the resolution of the Eroica’s quest for a main theme occurs in the
coda.
100 Indiana Theory Review Vol. 30 No. 1
The movement’s unorthodox treatment of form is a brilliantly ef-
fective way of accommodating many attempts, or “approach shots,” at
the final version of the main theme. In the first half of the movement,
the sonata-rondo layout provides attempts not only in its two state-
ments of main-theme function, but also in the dependent transition and
the subordinate theme. Moreover, the sonata-form tendencies of the
second transition (leading to the interior theme), which even includes
an instance of medial caesura declined, allows for yet another main-
theme attempt within the sonata-rondo design. Finally, a development
section recombines main-theme material in an attempt to discover an
appropriate melody. In the movement’s second half, a recapitulation of
most of its first half allows the main theme to undergo several wrong-
key attempts before resolving to the tonic in the coda.
Aside from the evidence within the music itself, the location of
this development and recapitulation is further supported by Beethoven’s
cancelled repeat marks that would have begun with the development and
ended with the recapitulation’s close. Once the interior theme begins to
be recapitulated, the sonata-rondo design of the second portion is con-
tradicted and retrospectively becomes a sonata form. This retrospective
reinterpretation is in keeping with the “process of becoming” within the
main-theme material itself. In other words, just as the final statement of
the main theme (in the coda) forces us to re-evaluate the identity of the
main theme, so the final statement of the interior theme forces us to re-
evaluate the second portion’s form from sonata-rondo to sonata form.
Thus, the process of becoming is an integral component of the scherzo,
one that is inextricable from its long-contested use of form.

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