WoO 2a – Triumphal March for the tragedy Tarpeia by Christoph Kuffner

Lebhaft und stolz

WoO 2a Triumphal March for the tragedy Tarpeia by Kuffner, March 1813, published in orchestral parts in Vienna by Haslinger in 1840; in full score in the GA, 1864. GA no. 14 (series 2/5) – B. 143 – KH. (WoO) 2/a – L. IV, p. 340/o – N. p. 139 – T. 178.

Orchestra: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, strings. The original manuscript is unknown.

Christoph Kuffner, born in Wurzach on 28 June 1780 (some sources give 1777) and deceased in Vienna in 1846, together with Kotzebue and Treitschke, was one of the many Austrian writers who were extremely prolific and highly popular in their time but are practically forgotten today. He studied music with the renowned Wranitzky and was a friend of Haydn. Despite these advantages, he was initially a Konzipist or Konzipient, a kind of civil servant employed at the Hofkriegsrat (the Austrian Ministry of War), and from 1818 he served as an editor for the influential periodical Wiener Zeitschrift für Kunst, Literatur und Mode, founded and published by Johann Schickh. This magazine appeared from 1816 to 1848 and remains one of the most important sources on Viennese cultural life of the period. His most significant literary work is the translation of the plays of the Latin poet Titus Plautus, published in 1805.

Kuffner came into contact with Beethoven during the composer’s final years, at a time when Beethoven was impatiently seeking texts for operas and oratorios. In 1826 Kuffner offered him the texts for two oratorios, Saul and Die Elemente (The Elements). No proposals for operatic works have survived.

Moreover, if Czerny’s recollections are accurate, it would appear that several years earlier Kuffner had hastily written the text for the finale of the Choral Fantasy, Opus 80, following Beethoven’s poetic instructions, as the composer had already written part of the music. It is, however, impossible to verify the truth of this statement. Nottebohm, in Zweite Beethoveniana, footnote 503/4, reports the claim but adds a question mark, noting that this text does not appear in the complete edition of all Kuffner’s poems, published in twenty volumes in 1845. Alexander Wheelock Thayer, on the other hand, saw no reason to doubt Czerny’s statement: “Sicherlich ist die Versifikation der Gedanken eines ändern nicht in dem Grade eine originale Schöpfung, daß wenige solcher Strophen in eines Dichters ,Werke‘ Aufnahme finden könnten” (“Surely the versification of another person’s thoughts is not so original a creation that a poet would necessarily include such verses in his collected works”).

Kuffner wrote the tragedy Tarpeja, which was first performed at Vienna’s Hofburg Theatre on 26 March 1813 and received only one further performance. It is strikingly reminiscent of Collin’s tragedy Coriolan. Both plays are set in Rome’s legendary past and deal with the same theme: a noble and upright man torn by conflict between personal inclination and loyalty to his Roman homeland. In a moment of deep despair, Coriolanus joins Rome’s enemies. Regretting his decision, he realises he will be a traitor in either case—both to Rome and to his new allies. Only suicide can restore his lost honour.

Kuffner’s drama presents a similar conflict. Here the central figure is Tarpeia, the daughter of Tarpeius, a general and friend of King Romulus, who is tragically in love with Tatius, the noble king of the Sabines—the same Sabines secretly seeking revenge for the audacious abduction of their women by the Romans. Once again, the only possible resolution of this moral conflict is death. Coriolanus and Tarpeia are two solitary figures of noble birth, fundamentally incapable of betrayal, yet fragile and fallible, drawn towards death as they are torn between duty and emotion, unable to find their way amid the compromises and pains of life. Remaining faithful to these opposing principles, it is easy to see why Beethoven was drawn to this theme, which in Collin’s Coriolan Overture achieved immortal heights.

As for the music to Tarpeja, all that is known with certainty is that Beethoven composed it for the performance of 26 March 1813, given for the benefit of the retired actor (and Mozart’s brother-in-law) Joseph Lange (1751–1831). It consists of a short but grandiose triumphal march in C major, later published in the complete edition of Beethoven’s works (see the attached PDF). The contemporary announcement read: “Der Marsch ist neu componirt von Hm. v. Beethoven” (“The march has been newly composed by Mr. V. Beethoven”).

A short march-like movement in D major, which Beethoven titled in Italian “Introduzione de(!) IIdo atto” (WoO 2b), was once assumed to have been written for this same work, though it is now generally believed to have been composed for the second act of Fidelio. The playbill gives no indication, and no sketches or fair copies of the score have been found. The surviving autograph, full of corrections and deletions, could in no way have been used for a performance. Whether Beethoven indeed wrote this “Introduction” for Tarpeja and later decided not to use it remains an open question.

Georg Schünemann attributed the “Introduction” to Tarpeja. In his edition of the tragedy (B. Schotts Söhne, Mainz, 1938) he claimed that these two pieces—the introduction to the second act and the triumphal march—were the only surviving numbers from a once complete dramatic score for Kuffner’s tragedy, now lost. This, however, remains conjectural, as Schünemann provided no source for his theory.

Perhaps the essential question is this: where in the tragedy is music explicitly required? Apart from a “necessary” overture and the three central acts, which call for no music, the text mentions musical cues in the following instances: a trumpet sound at the end of the eighth scene of Act I and again at the close of the act (probably a very brief march); in the final recitative of the third scene, at the end of the fourth, and in the final scene—likely short brass fanfares, perhaps only signals. Beethoven may have written something of this sort; the only comparable example he produced many years later was for the first and sixth scenes of Die Weihe des Hauses, Opus 124 (see Nottebohm, Zweite Beethoveniana, pp. 386–402). The eighth scene of Act II calls for martial music for the entry of the victorious Romans leading their captives, and again a march at the end of the scene, as well as a triumphal march at the close of the play.

It cannot be determined with certainty in which of these sections the triumphal march was performed—perhaps in each of the three scenes—but this remains pure speculation. In any case, Kuffner’s verse structure offered Beethoven little scope for the kind of powerful dramatic music he had created for Goethe’s Egmont.

The edition of Tarpeja presented in the attached PDF is based on the reprint in volume two of the complete edition of Kuffner’s dramas, published in two volumes by Kaulfuss and Krammer in Vienna in 1825. The volume contains Die Minnesänger auf der Wartburg, Catilina, and Tarpeja.

The historical accounts of Livy and Propertius. The elegiac poet Propertius, in poem 4.4, offers a ‘romantic’ version of the story of the Vestal Virgin who betrayed her country, presenting Tarpeia’s treachery as the consequence of her passionate love for King Titus Tatius. Livy, on the other hand, gives what may be called the traditional version of the tale, according to which Tarpeia was corrupted by the enemy’s gold. In both Propertius and Livy, the maiden ventures beyond the city walls to draw water for the cult of Vesta; however, while in Propertius the scene—described with deep lyricism—is the moment in which Tarpeia falls in love with the Sabine king, in Livy it marks the point at which she is captured by the enemy soldiers, who intend to punish her for her conduct.

Tarpeia is ultimately buried beneath the Sabines’ shields. In Propertius, the order comes from Titus Tatius himself, who refuses to honour the promise of marriage he had made to Tarpeia in order to persuade her to open the gates of the city to the Sabines. In Livy, the soldiers, pretending to fulfil her request for “all that they bore on their left arms”, in an act of profound contempt for the traitress, instead of giving her the golden bracelets she coveted, hurl their shields—also carried on their left arms—upon her. At the end of his account of Tarpeia, Livy includes another version of the legend, attributed to the annalist Lucius Calpurnius Piso, consul in 133 BC, according to which Tarpeia did not intend to betray Rome but rather to save it by disarming her enemies. Referring to what the soldiers bore on their left arms, the maiden, according to this account, had actually meant their shields.

The young woman is said to have sent a messenger to Romulus, urging him to attack the Sabines while they were unarmed; however, the messenger betrayed her, revealing everything to Tatius, who then ordered Tarpeia to be crushed beneath the shields. Piso’s version fully rehabilitates Tarpeia’s character, portraying her as a genuine heroine and martyr for her homeland. This version may explain why, every 13 February, the Vestal Virgins held a ceremony that ended with a libation upon Tarpeia’s tomb.

LIVIO

…. 5] Novissimum ab Sabinis bellum ortum multoque id maximum fuit; nihil enim
per iram aut cupiditatem actum est, nec ostenderunt bellum prius quam intulerunt.
….[6] Consilio etiam additus dolus. Sp. Tarpeius Romanae praeerat arci. Huius filiam
virginem auro corrumpit Tatius ut armatos in arcem accipiat; aquam forte ea tum
sacris extra moenia petitum ierat. ….[7] Accepti obrutam armis necavere, seu ut vi capta
potius arx videretur seu prodendi exempli causa ne quid usquam fidum proditori
esset. ….[8] Additur fabula, quod volgo Sabini aureas armillas magni ponderis brachio
laevo gemmatosque magna specie anulos habuerint, pepigisse eam quod in sinistris
manibus haberent; eo scuta illi pro aureis donis congesta. ….[9] Sunt qui eam ex pacto
tradendi quod in sinistris manibus esset derecto arma petisse dicant et fraude visam
agere sua ipsam peremptam mercede.

… [5] The last war arose from the Sabines, and it was by far the greatest; for nothing was done out of anger or greed, nor did they reveal their intention to wage war before they actually began it.
… [6] Deceit was added to strategy. Spurius Tarpeius was in command of the Roman citadel. His daughter, a maiden, was bribed with gold by Tatius to admit the armed men into the fortress; by chance she had gone outside the walls to fetch water for the sacred rites.
… [7] Once admitted, they crushed her to death beneath their weapons—either so that the capture of the citadel might appear to have been by force rather than through treachery, or to set an example that nothing should ever be trustworthy in the hands of a traitor.
… [8] A further tale is added: it was commonly said that the Sabines wore golden bracelets of great weight on their left arms, and rings adorned with precious stones of splendid appearance; she had bargained for what they bore on their left arms, and thus the shields were heaped upon her as golden gifts.
… [9] Some say that, according to the agreement, she had demanded the weapons carried on their left arms, and that, being thought to act deceitfully, she was slain as the price of her own bargain.

The review of the concert that appeared on page 293 of the journal WAMZ, March 1813. (Courtesy of Luigi Domenico Bellofatto)

… AND PROPERZIO

…..80    atque intermissa castra silere tuba.
Hoc Tarpeia suum tempus rata convenit hostem:
pacta ligat, pactis ipsa futura comes.
Mons erat ascensu dubius festoque remissus
nec mora, vocalis occupat ense canis.
…..85 Omnia praebebant somnos: sed Iuppiter unus
decrevit poenis invigilare suis.
Prodiderat portaeque fidem patriamque iacentem,
nubendique petit, quem velit, ipsa diem.
At Tatius (neque enim sceleri dedit hostis honorem)
……90    “Nube” ait “et regni scande cubile mei!”
Dixit, et ingestis comitum super obruit armis.
Haec, virgo, officiis dos erat apta tuis.
A duce Tarpeia mons est cognomen adeptus:

o vigil, iniustae praemia sortis habes.

… 80 And the camp, its trumpet silenced, lay still.
Tarpeia, thinking this her moment, met the enemy,
bound by a pact—and herself to share its fate.
The hill was steep to climb, made easier by the holiday’s rest;
without delay, she seizes the talking hound with her sword.
… 85 All things invited to sleep, but Jupiter alone
decreed to keep watch over his own punishment.
She had betrayed the gate’s trust and her fallen homeland,
and sought herself the day when she might be wed to whom she wished.
But Tatius—for the foe gives no honour to betrayal—
… 90 said: “Wed, then, and mount the couch of my rule!”
He spoke—and overwhelmed her beneath the piled arms of his men.
This, maiden, was the dowry suited to your deed.
From the traitorous leader Tarpeia, the hill took its name:

O watchful one, you have won the reward of an unjust fate.

Giambattista Fontana (1525–1587)
Tarpeia is crushed beneath the shields of the Sabine warriors.
Engraving on copper.

WoO 2a is part of the Research Becomes Art

A New Life for the Unknown Works of Ludwig van Beethoven: An Artistic Exploration by the pianist Professor Antonietta Cappelli and the Duo Fusaro – Arcuri (Two World Premieres)

March written in the key of C major, in 4/4 time, with the marking “Lebhaft und stolz” (literally: lively and proud), in ABB form.
The chosen transcription remains faithful to the spirit of the orchestral score and preserves its “majestic” character. We do not know exactly where it appears in Kuffner’s tragedy, but the solemnity of the piece certainly suggests the triumph of the Romans.

Section A presents the opening theme, first introduced by the wind section, and at bar 15 the sixteenth-note scale signals the entry of the strings and timpani. The opening theme is then repeated fortissimo by the full orchestral ensemble and continues until the end of the piece.

In the last quarter of bar 29, section B begins: the instruments seem to converse and play together. At times the violins, at times the winds, pass small themes between them, like garlands and confetti filling the path of the Romans. Next come the repeated notes of the strings and the leaps of a third in the flutes and violins. At bar 45 the opening theme returns, sung loudly by all the wind instruments. In the background, the strings play ascending scales, almost as if to emphasise the joy and pride of the victors. Until the end, the elements intermingle, and section B is heard again, fuller and increasingly majestic.

The piece played on solo piano does not sound the same as an orchestra, but while performing it, I could sense all the instruments present in the original score. The transcription includes a pedal marked forte that, in my view, is excessive for modern pianos. From bar 16 to bar 29 there are extremely long pedals.

I tried to clean them up while still respecting the original idea, and did the same from bar 45 to bar 51: using a pedal on the ascending scales makes it impossible to perceive the individual notes clearly.

It is a short piece, full of spirit, and technically not simple. The greatest challenge lies in the fact that there are so many notes to play and so many musical lines to bring out… now the trumpets enter, now the oboes, then the timpani and strings, and finally all together! The harmonic structure is very simple: the perfect chord and its inversions dominate in the home key.

Antonietta Cappelli

Tarpea: la traditrice maledetta di Roma from Il bar di Roma antica by Roberto Trizio

Roberto’s YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/RobertoTrizio-roma-antica