Notes on a long-lost Kvartettino in C Major for oboe and strings

 

The remarkably well-preserved manuscript of an unsigned Kvartettino in C Major for oboe and strings was recently discovered at the very bottom of a compost heap in which have been found limericks by the perhaps justifiably obscure violist/composer/limericist Ludwig Wolfgang von Kimber (1737-1898).  As von Kimber spent the entirety of his long and apparently uneventful life in rural Swabia, his exposure to classical music traditions of his day must have been quite limited.  Consequently, many scholars are reluctant to attribute this work to Swabia's foremost limericist, while others conclude that such music could only have been composed by someone like von Kimber, who would likely have been fairly ignorant of prevailing musical practices.

A few experts have noted unfortunate stylistic similarities of this Kvartettino to works of another obscure composer, Frantikczech Krammer-Krommer-Krummer (1799-1751).  A hastily written entry in Krummer's diary dated 2 July 1776 (when Krummer was either 23 years old or 25 years young, or vice versa, depending on which ways you look at it) refers to a one-movement work in C major that he composed for oboe and strings, a work that had been considered lost.  The noted Krummer scholar Heinrich Philipp Schleimschaufler is convinced that the work found in von Kimber's compost heap is Krummer's long-lost masterpiece.

Von Kimber scholars dispute, first of all, the claim that the Kvartettino is a masterpiece, for the simple reason that it is not.  More to the point, they dispute the claim of Krummer's authorship, arguing on the basis that von Kimber left no record of any encounter with Krummer or his music; therefore, how could a work by Krummer have ended up in von Kimber's compost heap?  Ardent Krummerites counter with the observation that since von Kimber himself left no records at all, we have no way of knowing.  Furthermore, how could von Kimber have composed a work in Krummer's inimitable style if he had been totally unfamiliar with Krummer or his music?

Notwithstanding the lack of any substantial evidence, current opinion favors von Kimber as the composer of the Kvartettino.  Regardless of its origins, this work displays many intriguing stylistic features, not the least of which (and there are, to be sure, many lesser features!) suggest the composer's apparent intent to distance himself from stylistic trends still popular in parts of Europe at the time.  The tempo marking Moderato, ma non tanto (moderately, but not so much), as well as instructions such as nicht zu empfindsam (not too sensitively), ganz ohne Sturm (quite without storm), and, in the dramatic E-flat minor opening of the development, nur sehr wenig Drang (only very little urgency), are telling, although precisely what they are telling remains a heated topic of scholarly debate.

The sole point upon which most noted scholars are in agreement is that the Kvartettino was found buried deep in a compost heap, surrounded by decomposed garbage of every imaginable sort.  The fact that this work survived the ravages of time and bacteria in such good condition is widely acknowledged as proof of either its remarkable strength or its decidedly disagreeable taste--disagreeable even to bacteria.  The intense scholarly interest in the Kvartettino's lowly origins is also testimony to the depths to which scholars must sometimes go to discover something of profound worth, the bitter disappointment felt when the discovery turns out to be utterly worthless, and the fierce determination to make something of it all anyway.

But let us not be too short-sighted or narrow-minded in our judgment.  Many composers who found themselves in the right place at the right time with the right people have garnered more fame than perhaps they deserved, while hidden talents such as Krummer and von Kimber would be doomed to languish in perpetual obscurity were it not for the dedicated efforts of scholars willing to explore out-of-the-way places, even to dig just a little bit deeper into the easily overlooked compost heaps of history.  To these daring explorers we owe a debt of gratitude, a debt far too rarely paid.


Some interesting observations regarding the Adagio, Menuetto, and Rondo movements: The main theme of the mournful Adagio bears an unmistakable similarity to the opening theme of Camille Saint-Saens's Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, composed nearly a century after the likely date of the Kvartettino. Von Kimber was also far ahead of his time in crafting a clear thematic relationship between the folk-like Menuetto and the cheerful Rondo, and if that were not sufficiently audacious, in m. 89 of the Rondo he brings back a statement in minor of the principal theme of the first movement, introduced in both instances by the lowly viola before being rescued by the oboe. Otherwise von Kimber's Kvartettino is, in the opinion of most reviewers (if you find them, please let us know who they are), without any particular distinction whatsoever.