Music - The one incorporeal entrance into the higher world of knowledge which comprehends mankind but which mankind cannot comprehend… Ludwig van Beethoven
Lectures One and Two: Introduction and Ludwig van Beethoven
Prelude: (Distribution of materials and syllabi)
Welcome to MUS 319! The Romantic era is the most influential in the history of Western music. The organization of concert life around the world nearly 100 years later still follows the general pattern set down in the Romantic era. Much of the music heard in concert halls is Romantic music. Romantic music still has an enormous influence on nearly all forms of modern (late 20th-century) popular music, especially film and TV music and so-called "easy listening music," which is often a watered-down imitation of Romantic cliches without either the inspiring philosophy or the depth of material. More importantly, Romantic music is the music which has made the strongest mark on musical styles currently produced the around the world. The age of Chopin and Liszt, Wagner and Mahler, is a far cry from music culture in the America of the twenty-first century, yet our lives are touched every day in some way by the creative forces originating during this powerful and fascinating era.
As we have progressed in our four semester journey through the history of music, we now slow down to reflect the huge changes in music and society that came upon us in the 19th century. The classes will roughly take the outline of the textbook and be divided into 12 1/2 lectures, Mid-term, Final, and a field trip to the New York Philharmonic.
Recognizing Listening Materials
The most important thing you can do in Music History Class is to deal with some of the music of the great composers. It’s not easy to tell which is which and who is who unless you make little notes as you listen. Here are some recommendations:
Let us say you are listening to the Brahms Piano Concerto #2. You know the Listening Test is likely to have the first movement of the Brahms on it. When you are doing your listening: Listen to the Brahms Piano Concerto, Mvt. 1.
1. Eliminate the idea that it might be anything but a piano concerto by noticing that the piano and orchestra are clearly playing together. You won’t call it a symphony or a piano sonata because it’s a “contest” (concerto) between the piano and orchestra.
2. Write down an idea of the opening tempo and as much of the orchestration as you can. For example, slow horns introduce the first movement. A little later, it speeds up, when the piano comes powerfully in. The theme is repeated quite often and has this rhythmic pattern: long, long, long, short-short-short long long, or something like that. Clap the rhythm. Conduct it if you can—anything to help you remember the approximate rhythmic feel of the theme.
3. If possible, use the make notes about the pitch, as well, but the rhythm, texture, and the fact that it is a piano concerto may be enough to jog your memory for a listening exam.
4. Think about the texture. It’s very thick!! Brahms intertwined the piano and orchestra in a way which was new to his age. The piano part is difficult and complex but seldom what you would call “flashy.” Brahms uses almost the entire length of the keyboard and varies his dynamics from a lullaby-soft sound to a powerful and exciting fortissimo. Later in the music, the piano has quite a bit of solo work, also.
4. Listen to the entire concerto. If you don’t have time to give it your full attention, at least play it while you are doing something else you need to do. But, of course, this music is meant to be listened to—with all your intellectual and spiritual powers intact. Enjoy the majesty and peace of the music, the lyric moments that sound quite joyful and the way Brahms gets into the piano keys and uses the fullness of the orchestra. Remember that he had to write everything out with a quill pen, and think of the tremendous gift he had to write such beautiful music. Consider the job of the pianist, also, who must memorize such a long selection. Thank God for the gift that He gave Brahms and which He gives those who are able to interpret and communicate this music, and this important piece of history, to our ears. If you are particularly fond of modern music, remember that it would not be possible without the courage and genius of people such as Johannes Brahms.
Our First two lectures discuss the life of Ludwig van Beethoven and the revolutionary times in which he lived. Beginning with a comparison between Haydn’s Symphony No. 88 and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, we emphasize the fact that Beethoven’s symphony does not reflect a period style but is, rather, his own new style and art work. Beethoven’s willingness to flout authority is discussed as a function of his personality and of his cultural and political environment. We explore Beethoven’s early life and progressive hearing disability with the aim of understanding the sources of his rage, alienation, and independence. We also explore the elements of heroism, radical change, revolution, and Napoleon that helped to inspire Beethoven’s music and allowed for its acceptance. What are Beethoven’s contributions to the Romantic period? How was Beethoven as a pianist, and what did he do for the piano and orchestra? He was driven by self-expression, independence, humanism (but still tempered by an unorthodox but sincere belief in God), liberty, equality, and fraternity.
The second lecture describes Beethoven’s mature compositional innovations and artistic beliefs through the example of his Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 (1808). Beethoven’s four compositional periods are described and discussed, as are his great compositional innovations. These innovations—contextual use of form, motivic development, dramatic progression of movements, use of rhythm—are all a function of Beethoven’s essential artistic belief that music composition is self-expression above all. These innovations give voice to Beethoven’s conviction that the forms and aesthetic rules of the past (the Classical era) apply only to the point that the composer deems them useful. Ultimately, according to Beethoven, form must follow expressive content. As an example of Beethoven’s extraordinary compositional innovations and his self-expressive view of music, this lecture examines his Symphony No. 5, paying special attention to his idiosyncratic use of Classical-era musical form and his remarkable motivic development.
Outline
Musical Comparison:
Haydn. Symphony no. 88, first movement (1788)
Beethoven, Symphony no. 5, first movement (1808)
A. Haydn’s piece is bright (in a major key), decorative, and amusing; Beethoven’s is dark (in a minor key), brooding, and angry.
B. Haydn’s piece is tuneful; Beethoven’s is supremely non-vocal—a mosaic-like assembly of motives.
C. Haydn’s melodic phrases are balanced and poetic; Beethoven’s are open-ended and prose-like.
D. Haydn’s piece has a steady, dance-like beat; Beethoven’s has a discontinuous beat.
E. Haydn’s rhythm is indivisible from pitch; Beethoven’s rhythm is the essential aspect of the thematic motive.
F. Haydn’s piece represents the Viennese Classical style; Beethoven’s is completely self-referential.
II. One of the main external influences upon Beethoven’s music was the French Revolution.
A. On July 14, 1789, a Parisian mob stormed the Bastille.
B. In 1792 France was proclaimed a republic, and the country rallied against German invaders bent on returning Louis XVI to the throne.
C. On January 1793 the deposed Louis XVI was guillotined.
D. In 1793 a young artillery lieutenant, Napoleon Bonaparte, began his rise through the ranks.
E. The new order ushered in by the French Revolution seemed to fulfill the promise of the Enlightenment.
F. Beethoven was nineteen years old at the start of the French Revolution. His ideas and attitudes were strongly shaped by the sense of change and individuality that the Revolution represented to him.
III. We begin by examining Beethoven’s childhood and early youth in Bonn, 1770- 1780.
A. He was born in 1770 in Bonn.
B. The three major players in Beethoven’s early life were his paternal grandfather Ludwig van Beethoven, his father Johann van Beethoven (a mediocre tenor and music teacher who overshadowed and psychologically abused his son), and his mother, the unhappy Maria Magdalena. Beethoven identified psychologically with his grandfather, not with his father.
C. His two younger brothers were Casper Anton Carl and Nikolaus Johann.
D. A lonely and withdrawn child, Beethoven was put under tremendous pressure by his father to emulate the prodigious feats of the young Mozart.
E. Beethoven’s “family romance” illuminates his complicated feelings about his parents and himself.
IV. During his second decade (1780-1789, also spent in Bonn), Beethoven emerged from his emotional shell via his musical talent.
A. He began studying organ and composition with Bonn court organist Christian Gottlob Neefe.
B. His trip to Vienna in early 1787 was cut short by his mother’s death.
C. At age I 6, Beethoven became, by necessity, head of the Beethoven household.
V. In November 1792 Beethoven traveled again to Vienna, ostensibly to take lessons from Haydn. His amazing pianism helped gain him entry into Vienna’s musical life.
A. Beethoven’s lessons with Haydn were a travesty and ended within fourteen months, due to Beethoven’s duplicity.
B. Following the termination of these lessons, Beethoven studied with Johann Albrechtsberger and Antonio Salieri, with equally limited success.
C. First as a pianist and then as a composer, Beethoven rapidly became the darling of the Austro-Hungarian aristocracy.
VI. Beethoven’s gradual hearing loss caused him great emotional suffering.
A. The hearing loss began around I 796 and worsened dramatically after 1812 or so.
B. By 1818 Beethoven was deaf in one ear and had only limited hearing in the other.
C. Beethoven poured out his suicidal despair in his “Heiligenstadt Testament” (composed in October 1802). The composition of this Testament provided a catharsis by which Beethoven recreated himself in a new heroic guise.
VII. Beethoven was a man and product of his time. His music combines:
A. The spirit of the Enlightenment (individuality), plus
B. The spirit of revolution (change), plus
C. The turmoil of the Napoleonic era (the end of the old order), plus
D. Beethoven’s personality (egotistic and self-reliant), plus
E. Frustration and turning inward for inspiration (hearing disability), all of which equals
F. Beethoven’s mature ideas about music:
1. Music is a self-expressive art.
2. The composer is hero and creator.
3. Originality is an artistic goal to be cultivated.
Lecture Two: Music historians have divided Beethoven’s output into four compositional periods.
A. Beethoven’s juvenalia were composed in Bonn up until 1791.
B. During his Viennese period (1792—1802), Beethoven absorbed and mastered the Viennese Classical style. His compositional output included:
1. Symphonies nos. I and 2
2. Piano sonata nos. 1—20
3. Piano concerti nos. 1—3
C. During his “heroic” period (1803—14), Beethoven found his mature voice. His compositional output included:
1. Symphonies nos. 3—8
2. Piano sonatas nos. 21—27
3. Piano concerti nos. 4 and 5
4. Violin concerto
5. Fidelio
6. String quartets nos. 7—1 1
D. His late period (I 81 6—27) was a time of reflection and transcendence:
1. Symphony no. 9
2. Missa Solemnis
3. Piano sonatas, nos. 28—32
4. String quartets, nos. 12—16
II. Beethoven was responsible for a number of compositional innovations.
A. These innovations rested upon a central creative belief—that music should serve as a vehicle for the composer’s self-expression.
B. Beethoven’s mature compositional innovations—all of which are on display in Symphony No. 5—include:
1. Contextual use of form to fit the composer’s expressive needs.
2. Motivic development.
3. Ongoing dramatic narrative from movement to movement.
4. Rhythm as a primal, personal element divorced from melody.
5. Music as a mode of self-expression.
III. We will take a two-fold approach to Beethoven’s Symphony no. 5, examining it as:
A. An absolute piece of music.
B. An expressive, literary, and metaphorical document.
IV. The first movement of this symphony is in “sonata” form.
A. The exposition is emblematic of creation and turmoil.
1. Theme 1 is minor, and characterized by the four-note “fate” motive.
2. Theme 2 is gentle, lyric, and major. It nevertheless grows out of theme I via motivic development.
B. In the development, the motivic material so carefully nurtured during the exposition is broken down and destroyed.
C. The recapitulation is emblematic of survival and rebirth. Particularly notable is the shocking appearance of C major (as opposed to the expected
C minor) during theme 2.
D. The coda represents a “development of the development—a blasted landscape seems to come back to life.
E. C minor is victorious at the conclusion of the movement, but C Major has played a galvanizing and surprisingly powerful role during the
recapitulation.
F. The harmonic conflict between darkness (as represented by C minor) and light (C major) is an essential part of the ongoing dramatic narrative of
this symphony.
V. The second movement is in free double variation form.
A. Theme 1 is quiet and lyric. It is a harmonically stable theme in Ab major.
B. Theme 2 is also quiet and lyric. It is also initially in Ab major, although it features a sudden and unexpected appearance of triumphant, fortissimo C
major.
C. The movement ends powerfully in Ab major.
VI. The third movement is a scherzo.
A. The scherzo is Beethoven’s answer to minuet and trio form.
1. It retains the large-scale A B A form of minuet and trio
2. The internal structure of the minuets and trio is replaced by freely composed sections which adhere to no a priori form.
3. The tempo is extremely fast, belying no debt to dance.
B. Scherzo I is in C minor. Phrase “b’ recalls the “fate” motive of the first movement.
C. The buoyant, polyphonic, C major music of the trio thumbs its nose at the darker mood of the scherzo.
D. Scherzo II is shrunken and ominous. C minor has lost its ability to dominate.
E. The movement ends with a false cadence, initiating a transition to the fourth movement.
VII. The fourth movement is in sonata-allegro form.
A. It represents a brilliant affirmation of C major.
B. Themes I and 2 in the exposition are cut from the same motivic cloth.
C. During the development, one additional thematic idea arises from the baseline that supports theme 2. Ironic and ghostlike, the “fate” motive theme
from the scherzo returns in C minor near the conclusion of the development.
D. The recapitulation and coda provide a giddy reaffirmation of C major and the brilliance and optimism it represents.
VIII. Beethoven’s artistic temperament represents a combination of musical styles.
A. In training and technique, he was a Classicist.
B. In expressive range, he was a Romantic.
If time permits, these additional examples will be played, but we will return to Beethoven throughout the semester:
Symphonies #3, #6, #9
Piano sonatas:
“Waldstein” sonata: Classically-oriented first movement, then 2nd and third--!!
“Appassionata”, sonata: “hand of Fate” theme like the 5th Symphony
Opus 110 from the third period and other examples of a sonata with a fugue
Piano concerto: “Emperor” Concerto (#5)
Chamber music: String Quartet Opus 131, Movements 1 & 2
Choral music: Missa Solemnis (composed between 1818 and 1823)
“Egmont” Overture (1810), music for a play by Goethe
Fidelio
Please read the following notes:
Beethoven Ushers In a New Movement in Music
Sue Talley
December 16, 1770, Bonn, northwestern Germany. Father, a “dissolute court musician,” who aspired to raise “another Mozart.” Subjected to a severe regimen as a child prodigy. (Does the anger and rebelliousness show in his music? Something to think about, particularly if you are a psych major. If you have read The Unaborted Socrates by Kreeft, you realize how amazing it really is that Beethoven was the man he became.)
In 1792, he went to Vienna, and studied with Haydn and other composers. Later, he was to say that he got nothing out of his studies with Haydn, but one has only to listen to his music to notice that he was not very truthful with himself about that.
Skilled pianist, violinist (he played the viola, also) and organist, but was primarily a composer. Also a man of great self-respect, who ignored the existing music theory whenever it suited him, using parallel fifths and the like to prove that the rule-makers were wrong.
His body of work included 9 symphonies, 5 piano concertos, 16 string quartets, 32 piano sonatas, and many other orchestral and chamber works. His music for piano ranged from the very simple but memorable “Fur Elise” and the “Bagatelles” to such difficult selections as the “Hammerklavier” Sonata. (Beethoven chose the German name, “Hammerklavier” for the piano, over the Italian “pianoforte.” For him, the piano was a “hammerklavier,” because he was famous for breaking strings, destroyed quite a few pianos before he found one heavy enough to stand up to his pounding.)
“Where pianists before him suavely and elegantly wooed an audience, Beethoven put bombs under their seats.” (Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers, page 112.) [Example: Appassionata.] He was also known to break piano strings almost as fast as he played them, and longed for a piano that could stand the stress of his forceful playing. He went as far as England to get a Broadwood piano, which seemed to be the best for his demanding technique. He was known, despite his overpowering of the instrument, as a superb pianist, a dazzling composer—and one of the worst conductors who ever lived, because of his deafness and eccentricity.
Beethoven not only refused to enter the servant’s entrance, as had previous musicians of great stature (such as Haydn and Mozart), but expected to be seated at table next to the princes who employed him. Because he believed in himself and because he had a skill worth believing in, his employers put up with his occasional bursts of rudeness. (For example, it was said that he spit a mouthful of hot potatoes on the floor at one dinner. When someone expressed consternation, he snapped, “Only a fool would burn his mouth.” Whether this is a true story or not, it sounds like Beethoven.) Other personal idiosyncrasies included renting dozens of apartments at once, apparently because he could not remember where he lived. (In that regard, he resembled Einstein, who once had to turn to the man behind him in the bank line and ask, “Pardon me, Sir, but could you please tell me my name?”) Those who knew him also acknowledged his incredibly sloppy personal habits in the home. I wonder if he moved so regularly because he didn’t like to clean up after himself!
Beethoven loved several women, but was quite discreet in his affairs—in fact, he probably never had physical ones, according to Schonberg. He was concerned about moral excellence to the point of prudery and objected to the opera, “Don Giovanni,” by Mozart, on the grounds that its plot was “immoral.” He did write love letters, including the famous one which has been preserved to the “Immortal Beloved.” But his life was not like the serialized romance so often seen on television. Indeed, he sadly admitted to one friend that he did not have a wife, not because he did not like women, but because he was not fortunate enough to find one to marry.
Unlike Mozart, Beethoven was a relatively successful composer, financially. In Vienna, he said that he was well able to support himself with his own compositions. He worked for princes and wealthy patrons, who also helped with his support. There were apparently times, though, when he had real financial difficulties. In 1818, he wrote, “I am almost reduced to beggary, and I am obliged to pretend that I do not lack necessities” (Elie Siegmeister, The Music Lover’s Handbook, page 421). Beethoven wasn’t crazy about Vienna, which he felt was haughty and frivolous. Vienna, which acknowledged his genius, sometimes acknowledged it grudgingly, because he could be haughty as well. For example, he wrote of one inexperience he had when he met the great poet, Goethe:
“Kings and princes can easily make professors and privy councillors; they can bestow titles and decorations, but they cannot make great men, or minds which rise above the base turmoil of this world…and when two men are together such as Goethe and myself these fine gentlemen must be made conscious of the difference between ourselves and them. Yesterday, as we were returning home on foot, we met the whole of the Imperial family…Goethe let go my arm to take his stand by the roadside with the crowd. It was in vain that I talked to him…I drew my hat down upon my head, buttoned up my overcoat, and forced my way through the throng. Princes and courtiers stood aside. Duke Rudolph raised his hat to me, the Empress bowed to me first. The great of the earth know me and recognise me. I amused myself in watching the procession pass by Goethe. He remained on the roadside bowing low, hat in hand. I took him to task for it pretty severely and did not spare him at all” (quoted in The Music Lover’s Handbook, by Elie Siegmeister, page 419).
For all his laudable desire at enfranchisement of the common man, one is still embarrassed for Beethoven’s lack of manners, and sad and understanding when he writes, in 1816, “I have no friends. I am alone in the world” (Siegmeister, Ibid., 420). Nevertheless, his faith sustained him: “God has never abandoned me,” he had written to Karl, some years before. He will find someone to close my eyes.”
At one point, Beethoven’s musical life took a bit of a detour. He tried very hard to raise a nephew, Karl, but the young man found it very difficult dealing with a singularly eccentric person, and Beethoven’s adventures in parenting were not a success. He wrested Karl away from his aunt, whom Beethoven did not like, and had five very difficult years of guardianship until the child’s mother finally was able to win back Karl’s custody.
Beethoven was extremely slow in turning out music. Rather, one might say he was deliberate, because he thought so long and hard, before he concluded a composition. He made notes for a work and composed and revised it for years. There are at least four overtures fo r his opera, “Fidelio,” for example. (It’s a rather strange opera, in which a woman disguises herself as a man to be near her husband, who is in prison for his patriotism. Unfortunately, the daughter of the house falls in love with her, thinking she is a man, which is sort of embarrassing. In the end, Fidelio, whose real name was Leonore, was able to win the freedom for her husband, but the girl who was in love with Fidelio must have been mortified to have fallen in love with what turned out to be a woman in pants).
Both “Fidelio: and “Egmont” were based upon the types of revolutionary heroes that Beethoven admired. The story of Egmont is quite interesting, because it shows so clearly his republican ideals:
“The drama takes place in Brussels during the time of the Spanish Inquisition. Philip II of Spain, in an effort to strengthen his hold over the Netherlands and to prevent the spread of the Reformation, has grown suspicious of the lenient rule over the country by his half-sister, Margaret of Parma. He dispatches the notorious Duke of Alba with an army to ‘assist’ her in carrying out his policies.
“Alba, upon his arrival, decides to do away with the two native leaders, Egmont, Prince of Gaure, the beloved friend and hero of the people, and Egmont’s more cautious friend, William of Orange.” When William learns that Alba is on the way, he flees to his own province, but the naïve and trusting Egmont remains and is arrested.
Of course, Egmont is loved by someone named Clara, whose mother wants her to marry a Mr. Brackenburg. Brackenburg, unhappy at her rejection, is going to drink a vial of poison. But she manages to get it away from him and drink it herself, so that she can die before Egmont does. On the night before Egmont’s execution, Clara appears to him in a dream and places a laurel wreath of victory on his head. Egmont, deriving new spiritual strength from the vision, goes to his death with victory, convinced that his death will arouse his people to throw off their yoke of tyranny.
Beethoven started going deaf in his twenties. The fact that his hearing was failing fast, and that he became very deaf by the end of his life, did not stop him from writing some of his greatest works. Naturally, he did not need the piano or another instrument to compose (and actually urged his English pupil, Cipriani Potter, never to compose in a room where there was a piano, or any other instrument), but he longed to hear what he had written, outside the confines of his remarkable mind.
His deafness did stop Beethoven from having successful social intercourse, as his “Heiligenstadt Testament” revealed: “Oh you who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you…Ah, how could I possibly admit an infirmity in that one sense (hearing) which ought to be more perfect in me than in others…”At the last part of his life, Beethoven tried to play his piano compositions with all stops out on the organ, in the hope that he could actually hear them. But his deafness was going on as early as 1805, when he premiered the Eroica Symphony (the one ostensibly dedicated to Napoleon Bonaparte). Of course, when his 9th Symphony was premiered, with himself as conductor, Beethoven could not hear it; the mezzo soloist had to turn him around to face the wildly-applauding audience, many of whom were waving handkerchiefs or throwing hats in the air to show the applause he could not hear.
Beethoven as a Conductor
Whereas Mozart conducted his works from the piano, Beethoven often conducted from the podium, possibly with a baton. Schonberg relates that Beethoven was “possibly one of the worst conductors in history” because of his deafness. He insisted on conducting first performances of his music, and he was a difficult man even before he went deaf. He was so absent-minded that once he forgot that he was the soloist when he was playing a piano concerto with orchestra, and, as Schonberg tells, “Springing up, he began to direct in his usual way, and at the first loud chords threw out his arms so violently that he knocked both lights off the piano.”
Descriptions of his conducting are both sad and hilarious. Perhaps from his heavenly perspective, Beethoven is able to afford a laugh at some of the descriptions now, but he found his situation anything but funny at the time. On one occasion, the poor man “forgot about some repeats which he had told the orchestra to disregard. He went back; the orchestra continued on, and the performance had to drag to a dismal stop. In the meantime Beethoven, noticing that something was wrong, was yelling, ‘Stop! Stop! Wrong! That will not do! Again! Again!’ It was a typical mess” (Schonberg, The Great Conductors, page 58). One musician, Ludwig Spohr, who was himself a violinist, composer, and conductor, observed: “Whenever a sforzando occurred he tore apart his arms, which he had previously crossed on his breast, with great vehemence. At a soft passage he bent himself down, and the softer he wished to have it, the lower he bent” (until he practically crawled under the conducting desk). “To increase the forte yet more he would sometimes, also, join in with a shout to the orchestra without being aware of it.” The musicians in the orchestra were often so insulted by Beethoven’s verbal abuse that they refused to play, and often they were taken aside and told to ignore the conductor, but to get the rhythm from the first violinist, instead.
Before Beethoven, the first violinist (concertmaster) often indicated the beat and led the music. The pianist (of whom there was at least one, perhaps two, in the orchestra) might conduct as well. Beethoven, as is obvious from the foregoing, needed both hands and his whole body to conduct. He must have been a sight to see, especially amazing to those of his own day, who had never seen anything so demonstrative. Still, Beethoven transformed conducting from a polite “beating of time” to total physical involvement, similar to that of the virtuoso conductors who followed him.
Was Beethoven the first of the Romantic composers?
Of course not. There were “Romantic” pieces by J.S. Bach, according to many peoples’ definition, and certainly in Mozart. But it all depends upon how you define Romanticism.
Schonberg tends to regard Romanticism as sentimental music. If that is the case, he assures us, Beethoven is not a romantic. Beethoven is not sentimental. He is also not the “classicist” in the same way that his forebears were; he used forms, but changed them to suit his purposes. His was a very masculine approach to music, and yet it is full of personal feelings. The Romantic composers certainly looked to Beethoven as a harbinger of Romanticism, because of the fact that he so strongly injected his emotions into the music, and changed forms to suit his purposes. Philosophically, Beethoven fit into the Romantic way of thinking about individualism and human freedom. The Romantics were only too happy to claim him as one of their own. But Beethoven, above all categories, was Beethoven.
One characteristic which the Romantics shared with Beethoven was their love of Nature. “She was his sole confidant,” says Theresa von Brunswick, “she was his refuge. Charles Neate, who knew him in 1815, says that he never saw anyone who loved flowers, clouds and nature so devotedly; he seemed to live in them. “No one on earth can love the country so much as I,” wrote Beethoven. “I love a tree more than a man.” When in Vienna he walked round the ramparts every day. In the country from daybreak till night he walked alone, without hat, in sunshine or ran. “Almighty God! In the woods I am happy, happy in the woods, where each tree speaks through Thee. O God, what splendor! In the forests, on the hills, it is the calm, the quiet, that helps me” (Ibid., p. 421).
The Romantic Movement
In order to really understand what Beethoven gave to the Romantic Movement, we have to somehow define the movement itself, as difficult as that may be to do. Here is a summary of some of the trends in Romanticism that might help us define the period which encompassed the 19th century.
“Germany and France, more than other countries, were the home of these romantic ideas. To trace them back to their origin will help in making clear their nature and their meaning as reflected and reechoed in music.
“It is extremely difficult to define briefly the nature of the romantic work of art in all its sublety and complication.” But we can contrast it with the classical form. The classical form has “a tendency toward concentration; it is a closed form; whereas in the romantic style there is an open form, a loose construction, something ‘eccentric’ as opposed to the concentric classical tendency…One may speak of rationalistic, logical traits of classical style, of its love for harmonious proportions, in contrast to the experimental, fantastic, and irregular features of romantic art. On e may contrast the objective, orderly, positive, clearly assertive classical manner with the subjective, irregular, hypothetical, and vague romantic statement. The universal tendency of classical art is replaced, at least in the earlier romantic phase, by national traits and by an outspoken glorification of the artist’s own race.
In contrast to this, “whatever appeals primarily and very strongly to the imagination and the emotions, and stresses fantastic and emotional qualities with all the means that are available, may justly be called romantic.”
“German Romanticism springs from a purely ideal source, French Romanticism from a revolutionary and militant spirit. The causes for the rise of the romantic movement in these two countries were similar, but the reaction to the new romantic ideas was as different as the German and French character and temperament. The cool, rationalistic attitude of mind of the 18th century and the revival of classicism had more or less exhausted their vital power toward the end of the century. Scorning logic, mathematical exactness, and scientific clarity, the long-repressed power of imagination now demanded its rights again. The years from about 1780 to 1830 mark the rise of romanticism in Germany and Austria, struggling with a still powerful classical spirit, a struggle finally decided after the death of Beethoven and Goethe in favor of romanticism. But the struggle goes on. The unceasing mixture of classic and romantic traits, recurring always in different proportions, can be clearly observed in the music of Felix Mendelssohn, in the later music of Schumann, and in Brahms” (Siegmeister, p. 428).
In order to understand what Beethoven had to work with in the 19th century orchestra, we must look at the size and make-up of a typical orchestra. First of all, he could not call upon the “Vienna Symphony,” because it didn’t exist. Usually orchestras were composed of musicians and amateurs. Later, the music became too difficult for amateurs, and the paid musicians gained the upper hand.
Instead of a drawing room, such as the noblemen had, a larger hall was required. It was, of course, expensive to put on a production in a large hall, as it is today, so business people became sponsors of concerts. Beethoven’s new symphonies were put on in public concerts, with a paid subscription. So the fact that the symphony became a public institution was one more piece of evidence that the world was becoming more democratic. The size and scope of Beethoven’s music simply required big orchestras and big surroundings. The premiere of the Ninth Symphony included two other of Beethoven’s works, and must have been very long indeed. But the public was quite willing to sit through it, and, for the most part, loved it.
You will remember that several orchestral instruments, especially the winds, really developed in the 19th century, making them easier to play in tune. The recorder of the 18th century was replaced almost completely by the transverse flute, which became a very sophisticated instrument. (The recorder would re-emerge in the 20th century, but that is another story.) The transverse flute was, first of all, louder, and secondly, had a longer range than the recorder, so it was more versatile with the bigger orchestras. The horns developed a much better system of operation with the valves, and so on. So, as greater demands were put upon the orchestral instruments, in the sense of dynamics, the instruments rose to the occasion and developed. The strings, however, had already reached their perfection in the instruments of Stradivarius and Amati; some changes were made to extend the range of the double bass.
But the instrument which not only changed the most, but dominated the 19th century as no other did, was the piano. Mozart’s piano, as you know, was a relatively flimsy little thing with a thin tone, suited to the needs of classical music. The harpsichord was not entirely out of use. And pianos were used with the orchestra, not only for the fine piano concertos composed by Mozart and Haydn, but to play in the symphonies with the orchestra (the leader of the orchestra often beat the time from the piano or harpsichord). Beethoven and his music demanded an instrument that could thunder over the orchestra, and at least be its equal. He was reasonably satisfied with the Broadwood piano. In our time, the Steinway would be the kind of piano he would enjoy—it has a powerful bass, it stands up to all kinds of punishment, and it has a deeper and firmer touch than many of the European types (such as the Bechstein). The grand piano is an amazingly complicated instrument, as may be seen from the photocopy of a Steinway reproduced here. Mr. Franz Mohr, who has tuned and regulated Steinways for most of his life, and whose life is an inspiration, tells about the development of the piano. [Quotations from the book follow, but are not written here.]
It’s important to note that Beethoven was the first composer who treated the voice as an orchestral instrument. He struggled with himself about this, as usual, writing and re-writing drafts of the choral section of the Ninth Symphony, worrying about whether or not it was a mistake to put in a choral section. Later composers were profoundly affected by Beethoven’s use of voices in a symphonic work. Perhaps because Beethoven was primarily an instrumentalist, he wrote as if the voice could do anything that an instrument can do. A simple example of this is in his song, “The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God.” Notice how much kinder he is to instrumentalists than to the singer! [example] Notice, also, that the singer had to have a special “heroic” element to his or her voice to sing such a song. As the instruments of the orchestra developed in the 19th century, so vocal ability developed rather in a different direction than it had in bygone years. Opera singers needed great strength, flexibility, and breath control to sing dramatic operas with a heavier orchestra.
As you know, Beethoven inherited the rational and beautiful structure of Haydn’s form, and the feeling which Mozart was able to put in his music, but added a personal intensity to both of these. Because of this, the music was abrupt. It was not so rational as it was “an incessant fluctuation of emotional excitement” (Bekker, The Story of the Orchestra, page 93). How did the addition of voices at the end of the Ninth Symphony add to the emotional enrichment of the piece?
In addition to using voices in a symphony, Beethoven added a modest amount of sound effects, such as a gunshot in “Wellington’s Victory.” Later composers, particularly Tchaikovsky, certainly made use of sound effects as well. You may remember that Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” makes use of a cannon shot, church bells, and so on to portray the victory of the Russians over Napoleon. Beethoven, however, tended not to write “program music,” which was meant to portray an event or to imitate nature. He preferred not to think of his music that way, and said that he was trying to express his personal response to nature or to an event, rather as a poet writes a poem about the sea but does not necessarily imitate the sound of it in his poem.
In the eighteenth century, the oratorio, a religious drama in concert form, had continued to develop, being used by Haydn, for example, in The Creation with great success. Beethoven also wrote an oratorio called The Mount of Olives (Christus am Oelberg”), and several cantatas. (Cantatas tend to be smaller in scope and do not always have a religious theme. Beethoven wrote one to celebrate the Congress of Vienna, in 1814, called “The Glorious Moment.” The oratorio has become something of a relic in the 20th century, but it continued to be used as a vehicle for religious expression and drama in the 19th.
When Beethoven started writing symphonies, the common pattern of movements was based upon the Italian sinfonia: Allegro, Andante or Adagio, Minuet, Allegro (Finale). Beethoven introduced the scherzo instead of the minuet in his symphonies, which was an innovation. He wished to have a more exciting, vital movement than that provided by the minuet, and the scherzo, which is Italian for “joke,” gave him the opportunity to crash around with his usual exuberance and dynamic variation. Listen to the Scherzo of the Ninth Symphony. Beethoven, of course, being Beethoven, after writing with scherzos for 7 symphonies, he stuck a Minuet into the 8th.
Beethoven used recurring themes in sonatas and symphonies. He also greatly lengthened the symphony, which is one reason why Mozart could write 49 and Haydn could write one hundred and one of them and Beethoven, only 9. Later 19th century composers tended to write longer symphonies, and fewer of them. The number 9 seemed the “magic number” for the great 19th century composers. Actually, writing just nine symphonies became something of a superstition, so that Mahler was afraid that if he attempted to write a tenth symphony, he would probably die before it was finished.
The use of the instruments was related to the keys in which Beethoven wrote his symphonies. For example, he loved to write for horn in E flat, a key in which the horn sounds exceptionally good. Because he loved the sound of the horns and felt that they sounded heroic, he would write for horns in E flat whenever he wanted something particularly heroic, such as the “Eroica” Symphony. Trumpets sounded particularly good in C, so he wrote the “Leonore” overtures with trumpets in mind, and in C. C minor, and later C major, was used in the 5th Symphony, again to favor the trumpets. So the keys Beethoven chose were not arbitrary, but carefully chosen to compliment the instruments he preferred to accentuate. The keys of the nine symphonies are:
First, C major, Op. 21 (1800)
Second, D major, Op. 36 (1802)
Third (Eroica), E flat major, Op. 55 (1804)
Fourth, B flat major, Op. 60 (1806)
Fifth, C minor, Op. 67 (1808)
Sixth (Pastoral) F major, Op. 68 (1808)
Seventh, A major, Op. 92 (1812)
Eighth, F major, Op. 93 (1812)
Ninth, D minor, Op. 125 (1823)
Beethoven’s themes tend to be suitable for different groups of the orchestra, as if written for each of them, but his primary contribution to the history of orchestration probably was his great use of the wind instruments. “The winds were no longer only accentuating, but absolutely individual voices.” [Bekker, p. 113] “His horns always radiate an elemental brilliance such as has never been heard before or since.” [Ibid., page 115] However, all the instruments were treated as individuals in Beethoven’s orchestras. They were “linked to the ideology of liberty, fraternity, and the demand for individual responsibility, perfectly reflecting the ideal of liberation of individuality through development of independence, the final goal being the unification of all individualities into a free community” (Ibid., p. 116).
For any of you interested in Beethoven anecdotes or trivia, please go to the following link: