Corelli, Vivaldi, Albinoni—Their successors, Locatelli, F. M. Veracini, and others; Tartini, and his pupils; pupils of Somis: Giardini and Pugnani—French violinists and composers: Rébel, Francœur, Baptiste Anet, Senaillé and Leclair; French contemporaries of Viotti: Pagin, Lahoussaye, Gaviniès; Viotti—Violinists in Germany and Austria during the eighteenth century: Pisendel, J. G. Graun, Franz Benda; Leopold Mozart—The Mannheim school: J. Stamitz, Cannabich and others; Dittersdorf, Wranitzky and Schuppanzigh—Non-violinist composers: Handel, Bach, Haydn, Mozart—Conclusion.
Corelli’s opus 5 was published in Rome in 1700. The four earlier opera and the concerti grossi of 1712 occupy a place in the development of chamber and symphonic music. The opus 5 may be taken as the solid foundation of violin music, that is music for a single violin with accompaniment. It consists of twelve solo sonatas, with figured bass for harpsichord, 'cello, or theorbo. The first six of these are similar in spirit to the sonate da chiesa. They are generally serious in treatment. The other six correspond to the sonate da camera. Five of them are made up of dance movements in the style of a suite, though the order is irregular, and here and there the dance name is not written in the score. The last consists of variations on a melody known as La folia. The melody is very old. The sarabande rhythm suggests an origin in connection with some sort of Spanish dance; and in a series of Spanish dances published in 1623 there is a Follie. Also the French clavecinist d’Anglebert wrote a series of variations which he published in his set of clavecin pieces (1689) as Folies d’Espagne. It is very doubtful that this melody, of which Corelli and Vivaldi as well made use, was composed by G. B. Farinelli, though in England it was known as ‘Farinelli’s Ground.’ Rather it is one of the old popular songs, such as La romanesca, which composers employed as a basso ostinato in sets of divisions or variations, very much like a Chaconne or a Passacaglia.
The treatment of the violin in these twelve sonatas has, and well may have, served as a model during the years which have passed since they were written. Music cannot be conceived more fitting to the instrument. It is true that none calls for brilliant virtuosity. Corelli never goes beyond the third position; but within this limit no effect in sonority or delicacy has been neglected.
The polyphonic style of the first six is worth mentioning. It will be observed that in all the first allegros, and in the last as well, the violin is given a certain amount of two-part music to play. Usually there is a strong suggestion of fugal style. The violin announces the subject, and continues with the answer. Then the figured bass takes it up. The first allegro in the fourth sonata offers a clear example. Throughout the entire movement the instrument is called upon to play more or less in polyphonic style—carrying two parts. It is, however, a graceful and flowing style. There is no suggestion of learning too heavy for sound. The short, slow preludes at the beginning of each sonata are all beautifully wrought. The smooth imitations in No. 2, the use of a rhythmical figure in the bass of No. 3, and in all the free independent movement of the two parts, speak of a composer of finest instinct and true skill.
In the second six, on the other hand, the violin is not called upon to carry more than one part. The style is consequently lighter, and on the whole more brilliant. The rhythmical elements of the dances are brought out prominently, and here Corelli shows himself no less a master. Take for example the allemande in the eighth sonata (E minor), or the gavotte in the tenth (F major).
The variations on La folia present Corelli’s technical resources in a nut-shell, so to speak. Such variations as the first, second, and third show a command of counterpoint; but the fifth begins to reveal his instinct for effects upon the violin, which is given freer and freer play in the eleventh, thirteenth, and fourteenth. The contrast between upper and lower strings is brought out in those mentioned. In the twelfth and sixteenth he uses the rich thirds and sixths destined in the course of the century to displace the polyphonic style altogether. Finally the twenty-third brings an astonishing effect of vibration and resonance.
It is neatness of form, surety of technique, and perfection of style which give these sonatas their historical importance, which have made them a foundation for further development. Their beauty, however, is not a matter of history. We know of no music that speaks of an age that is passed with more gentleness, more sweetness, or more dignity. There is none that is more admirable. It is gratifying to note that such music as this was in its own day beloved. The Apothèse de l’admirable Corelli written by the great French clavecinist, François Couperin, is among the few whole-souled and disinterested tributes of one contemporary to another. It describes in quaint music the entrance of Corelli into the company of Lully in the Elysian Fields. Couperin held that the combination of what was best in Italian music with what was best in French would produce an ideal music; and obviously he prized Corelli as representative of the best that there was in Italy.