BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET
As Beethoven was such an intensely subjective composer, a knowledge of
his personality and environment is indispensable for a complete
appreciation of his works.[132]
[Footnote 132: Hence is given a more extended biographical account
than in the case of former composers.]
Beethoven, Ludwig van (1770-1827), born at Bonn on the Rhine, though
his active career is associated with Vienna, may be called the first
thinker in music; for at last the art is brought into correlation with
man's other powers and becomes a living reflex of the tendencies and
activities of the period. Notwithstanding the prodigious vitality of
Bach's work, we feel that his musical sense operated abstractly like a
law of Nature and that he was an unconscious embodiment, as it were,
of the deep religious sentiment of his time and of the sturdy
independence of his race. At any period and in any place Bach would
have been Bach. Beethoven's music, however, in its intense personality
and as a vivid expression of the ideals of his fellow men, was
different from any the world had heard before. There were three
paramount advantages in his equipment: first, Beethoven was a strong
character who only happened to find in music his most suitable means
of self-expression. The full import of his works cannot be understood
unless he is recognized, great creative artist that he was, as first
and foremost a unique personality. Had he not written a note of music
we should have sufficient historical evidence to assure ourselves of
the vigor of his intellect and the elevation of his ideals. Whereas
Haydn and Mozart are to be judged purely as musicians, in Beethoven it
is always something underlying the musical symbols which claims our
allegiance. Furthermore he had the inestimable advantage of finding
the mechanical structure of instrumental music carefully formulated by
his predecessors. The stone had been quarried, the rough cutting done
and the blocks lay ready for a genius to use in the erection of his
own poetically conceived edifice. And these forms were still fresh and
vigorous; they had not yet hardened into formalism. In Beethoven's
works we rarely find form employed for its own sake, as a mere "tour
de force" of skilful workmanship, rather is it made to adapt itself to
the individual needs of the composer. Finally Beethoven's career
coincided with momentous changes and upheavals in the social,
political and artistic world. He is the embodiment of that spirit of
individualism, of human freedom and self-respect which found its
expression in the French Revolution, in our American War of
Independence and in the entire alteration of social standards.
Beethoven at all costs resolved to be himself. With him music ceases
to be a mere "concourse of sweet sounds"; it must always bring some
message to the brooding human soul, and be something more than a
skilful example of abstract ingenuity. These personal tendencies of
Beethoven were fostered by the spirit of the times, and his music
became in turn a vital expression of revolt against existing
conditions and of passionate aspiration towards something better. He
was the first musician to free himself from the enervating influence
of having to write exclusively for aristocratic patronage. Such was
the social emancipation of the period that he could address himself at
first hand to a musical public eagerly receptive and constantly
growing. His representative works could never have been composed in
the time of Haydn and Mozart; for though in formal structure the
logical development of preceding methods--Beethoven being no reckless
iconoclast--in individual content they reveal a freedom of utterance
which took its rise in tendencies hitherto unknown. Beethoven's mighty
personality and far-reaching influence can not be stated in a few
formulae. An extensive library covering his life and times is
accessible to the interested layman, and a thorough appreciation of
his masterpieces is a spiritual possession which everyone must gain
individually. Since Beethoven's works compel a man to think for
himself, the constructive power of the creator must be met with an
analogous activity on the part of the receptive hearer. The
symphonies, for example, are more than cunningly contrived works of
musical art; they are human documents of undying power to quicken and
exalt the soul which will submit itself to their influence.
Beethoven's great instrumental compositions are few in number in
comparison with the voluminous and uneven output of his predecessors.
Thus from Haydn we have 125 symphonies, from Mozart about 40, from
Beethoven 9. Of Haydn's symphonies possibly a half dozen have
permanent vitality; of Mozart's four; of Beethoven's all, with the
possible exception of the experimental first. Condensation of subject
matter, conciseness of style, a ceaseless exaltation of quality above
quantity are the prominent features in Beethoven's work. All adipose
tissue is relentlessly excised, and the finished creation resembles a
human being in perfect physical condition--the outward mechanical
organism subservient to the spirit within.
Beethoven's life is of supreme interest and importance, for his music
is the direct expression of himself, of his joys and sorrows. His
ancestry raises many perplexing questions as to the influence of
heredity and the sources of genius. In the first place Beethoven was
not a pure-blooded German, but partly Flemish on his father's side.
His paternal grandfather, Ludwig van[133] Beethoven, was a man of
strong character and of a certain musical aptitude, who had migrated
from the neighborhood of Antwerp to Bonn where he served as court
musician to the Elector of Cologne. The paternal grandmother early
developed a passion for drink and ended her days confined in a
convent. The son of this couple, Johann (the father of the composer)
was a tenor singer in the court chapel at Bonn and soon became a
confirmed drunkard. He seems to be a mere intermediary between
grandfather and grandson. In 1767 he married a young widow, Maria
Keverich, a woman of warm affections and depth of sentiment, whose
life was bound up in the care of her gifted son. The tender love
between Beethoven and his mother was a bright spot in his early years,
in many ways so sordid and unhappy. Unfortunately she was delicate, of
consumptive tendencies, and died when Ludwig was but seventeen. "She
has been to me a good and loving mother," he writes, "and my best
friend." As we ponder on such facts and then consider for what
Beethoven stands, we can only exclaim, "God works in a mysterious way,
his wonders to perform." It was early seen that the young Beethoven
had unusual ability, and so the shiftless father, with the example of
Mozart's precocity before him, submitted the boy to a deal of enforced
drudgery in the way of harpsichord and violin practice. He had one
good teacher however, Neefe, who records that the boy of thirteen
played the harpsichord with energetic skill and had mastered the
Preludes and Fugues of the Well-Tempered Clavichord. Beethoven's
general education was sadly neglected, and when he was thirteen
practically ceased. These deficiencies were a source of mortification
all his life. He spelled atrociously, was never sure of his addition
and subtraction and so was often involved in altercations with
landlords and washerwomen. By nature Beethoven was of strong, eager
intellect. He became an omnivorous reader, and later in life acquired
a working facility in Latin, French, Italian and English. The first
period of his life ends with his departure in 1792 for Vienna, whither
he was sent by the Elector to study with Haydn. In summing up its
special incidents we are struck first by the vivid and lasting
impression which Beethoven, in spite of his lowly origin and
deficiencies in education and cultivation, made upon wealthy and
refined people of distinction, simply through his extraordinary
personality and unmistakable sincerity. Two of these friends were the
von Breuning family, including the charming daughter Eleanore--one of
Beethoven's early loves--and the cultivated and influential Count
Waldstein, in whose companionship he became acquainted with the German
poets and with the dramas of Shakespeare. For a vivid picture of these
boyish years the student is recommended to the Romance, _Jean
Christophe_ (by Romain Rolland) which, though somewhat idealized, is
mainly on a historical basis. Two of Beethoven's most unique
characteristics date from this period. First, his constant habit of
drawing inspiration directly from Nature, of which he was a passionate
and persistent lover. He says of himself "No one can love the country
as I love it. Here alone can I learn wisdom. Every tree exclaims to me
'Holy, Holy, Holy.'" In long walks through wood and field he would
allow his thoughts to germinate, giving himself up utterly to creative
emotion. When in this state of mind Madame von Breuning used to say
that he was in his "raptus." Consequently, in comparison with the
works of previous composers, which often have a note of primness and
artificial restraint--they smell a bit of the lamp and the
study--those of Beethoven have the elemental power of Nature herself,
especially shown in the vigor and variety of the rhythm. Second, he
would always carry sketch books in which to jot down ideas as they
came to him. These he would polish and improve--sometimes for
years--before they took final shape. Many of these sketch books[134]
have been preserved and edited, and they illustrate, most vividly,
Beethoven's method of composing: slow, cautious, but invincible in its
final effect; an idea frequently being altered as many as twenty
times. At the age of twenty-two he was chiefly known as a pianist with
wonderful facility in improvisation; his compositions had been
insignificant. The next eight years--up to 1800, when Beethoven was
thirty--were spent in acquainting himself with the Viennese
aristocracy and in building up a public clientele. Then follows the
marvellous period until 1815 in which his power of inspiration was at
its height, and which gave to the world a body of work for magnitude
and variety never surpassed: all the symphonies except the Ninth, the
first twenty-seven pianoforte Sonatas, five concertos for pianoforte
and orchestra, the opera of Fidelio, several Overtures, numerous
string quartets and ensemble chamber music. We realize even more
vividly the heroic and sublime character of Beethoven when we learn
that, as early as 1798, there began the signs of that deafness which
altered his whole life. By nature he was hypersensitive, proud and
high-strung, and these qualities were so aggravated by his malady that
he became suspicious, at times morose, and his subsequent career was
checkered with the violent altercations, and equally spasmodic
renewals of friendship, which took place between him and his best
friends. His courage was extraordinary. Thus we find him writing:
"Though at times I shall be the most miserable of God's creatures, I
will grapple with Fate, it shall never pull me down." On the artistic
side this affliction had its compensations in that it isolated the
composer from outer distractions, and allowed him to lay entire stress
on the spiritual inner side of his art; certainly this is one of the
strongest notes in his music--the pure fancy manifested therein. As a
deaf musician he is comparable to the blind seer who penetrates more
deeply into the mysteries of life than those whose physical eyesight
is perfect. Beethoven's closing years form a period of manifold
complications, caused by the care of his scapegrace nephew, by his
settled deafness and precarious financial position. Yet he grimly
continued to compose, his last works being of titanic dimensions such
as the Choral symphony, the Mass in D and the last Quartets and
Pianoforte Sonatas. Beethoven died on March 26, 1827; nature most
appropriately giving a dramatic setting to the event by a terrific
storm of hail and snow, lightning and thunder. It would take too long
to dwell on the many characteristics of the man Beethoven. Power,
individuality and sincerity were stamped upon him, and his music is
just what we should expect from his nature. He embodied all the
longings, the joys and sorrows of humanity, and gave them such burning
utterance that the world has listened ever since.
[Footnote 133: The prefix van is not a symbol of nobility.]
[Footnote 134: See the two _Beethoveniana_ by Nottebohm.]
To touch now upon a few of the formal aspects of Beethoven's work, as
far as verbal analysis can help, it may be asserted that he is the
acknowledged master of the Sonata Form as Bach was of the Fugue, and
in his hands this form, and also the Air with Variations, were raised
to a potency the influence of which is felt even to-day. From
beginning to end every portion of the Sonata Form was made over and
vitalized. Instead of the perfunctory "flourish of trumpets" which
served previous composers for an introduction, this portion with
Beethoven deftly leads on the hearer to a contemplation of the main
work, and is as carefully planned as the porch of a great Cathedral.
For examples, witness the continually growing excitement generated in
the introductions to the Second and Seventh Symphonies, the breathless
suspense of the introduction to the Fourth, and the primeval,
mysterious beginning of the Ninth. And then what a difference in the
character and emotional suggestiveness of the themes, that with
Beethoven are actual human voices, dramatic characters, which once met
can never be forgotten. As Lavoix says of the Fifth Symphony, "Is not
this a drama in its purity, where passion is no longer the attribute
of a theatrical work, but the expression of our own individual
feelings?" No longer are the transitions mere mechanical connections,
but a portion of the structure which, though subsidiary, is yet
organically developed from that which precedes and inevitably related
to that which follows. In the development section we find the real
Beethoven. Here his marvellous freshness of invention found full play.
Such inexhaustible fancy, such coherence of structure, such subtlety
of transformation were unknown in former times, when development was
often as lifeless as the perfunctory motions of an automaton.
Beethoven's developments are no mere juggling with tones; they are
vast tonal edifices, examples of what the imagination of man
controlled by intellect can achieve. Possibly Beethoven's greatest
skill as a musical architect was shown in his treatment of the Coda,
which became the crowning climax of a movement, a last driving home
with all possible eloquence of the message heretofore presented. The
end of previous compositions had too often been a mere ceasing to go,
a running down, but in Beethoven there is usually a strong objective
point towards which everything converges.
Fully conscious as he was of the throbbing human message it was his
mission to reveal, we may be sure that Beethoven spared no effort to
enhance the expressive capabilities of music as a language. Certain
aspects of his style in this respect are strikingly noticeable in
every one of his representative works. First, the marvellous rhythmic
vitality. Note the absence of the former sing-song rhythm of Haydn; in
its stead we hear the heart-beat, now fast, now slow, of a living
human being. No longer can the hearer in dreamy apathy beat time with
his foot. Second, his use of the fiercest dissonances to express the
heights and depths of our stormy human existence. In listening to
contemporary works nothing should persuade us more strongly to a
sympathetic tolerance, or at any rate to a suspension of judgment,
than the fact that many of Beethoven's most individual cries (surely
in his case the outward expression of what he heard within, those very
outbursts which to-day ring longest in our consciousness) were
considered at the time of their creation as the ravings of a mad-man.
Dissonances, both acoustically and psychologically, are a vital
principle in music. In no respect was his music more original than in
his Promethean boldness in their use. One of his favorite conceptions
was that music should strike fire from the soul of man; it was not
meant to lull the hearer into a drowsy revery, but to awaken his
spiritual consciousness with a shock at times positively galvanic. A
third feature is his subtlety in expression, as is shown by the minute
indications in which every page of his work abounds. The crescendos,
often leading to a sudden drop to pianissimo, the long stretches of
hushed suspense, the violent sforzandos on unimportant beats, the
plasticity of periodic formation, all these workings of a rich
imagination first gave music its place as the supreme art of human
expression.
A word must be spoken concerning two forms which we owe to Beethoven's
constructive genius. In place of the former naive Minuet, so
characteristic of the formal manners of its time, he substituted a
movement with a characteristic name--the Scherzo, which opened up
entirely new possibilities. No mere literary distinction between wit
and humor[135] can explain the power of Beethoven's Scherzos; only
through his own experience of life can the hearer fathom their
secrets. The expression of real humor, akin to that spirit which is
found in Cervantes, Swift, Mark Twain and Abraham Lincoln, was a
genuine contribution of Beethoven. Deep thinkers alone are capable of
humor which, to quote a recent writer, is "that faculty of imagination
so humane and sympathetic in its nature that it can perceive at the
same time serious and jocose things. It can feel the pathos of a scene
on life's stage and yet have an eye for the incongruities of the
actors. It is imagination, the feel of kinship with the universal
human soul." Beethoven's Scherzos are as varied as life itself. Who
can forget the boisterous vitality of this movement in the Eroica,
which quite sweeps us off our feet, the haunting mystery of the
Scherzo of the Fifth Symphony, or listen unmoved to the grim
seriousness, alternating with touching pathos, in the Scherzo of the
Ninth? Secondly, his conception of the Air and Variations was so
different from anything previously known that he may fairly be called
its creator. With him variations became poetic transformations, and
the notable works in this form of Brahms, Tchaikowsky, Franck and
d'Indy are only freer manifestations of Beethoven's method. Upon two
last features, his use of titles and his individualizing of the
orchestral instruments, we cannot dwell in detail. Although program
music in its literal sense dates back several centuries,
Beethoven--far more than was customary before--used external
suggestions or incidents, often intimate subjective experiences, as
the quickening impulse to his imagination. We know from his own words
that, while composing, he generally had some mental picture before
him. Very often we are not given the clue to his thoughts, but the
titles, familiar to every one, which he did use, such as the _Heroic_
and _Pastoral_ Symphonies, the _Coriolanus_ and _Egmont_ Overtures,
those to several of the Sonatas, are full of import and show clearly
that he was engaged in no mere abstract music making for its own sake.
These works are the point of departure for the significant development
of modern music along this path. With Beethoven the orchestra began to
assume its present importance, and the instruments are no longer
treated as mere producers of sound and rhythm, but often as living
beings. How eloquent is the message of the Horns in the Trio to the
Scherzo of the _Heroic_! Berlioz compares the double basses in the
Fifth Symphony to the gambols of sportive elephants, and instances
might be multiplied. But words are futile in describing the wonders of
Beethoven. A striking tribute is that of Professor John K. Paine. "In
instrumental music Beethoven is pre-eminent, from all points of view,
formally, aesthetically and spiritually. Like Shakespeare's, his
creations are distinguished by great diversity of character; each is a
type by itself. Beethoven is the least of a mannerist of all
composers. His compositions are genuine poems, which tell their
meaning to the true listener clearly and unmistakably in the language
of tones, a language however which cannot be translated into mere
words."
[Footnote 135: The derivation of the word is worthy of note; it means
moisture, juice, something not dry. Humor is certainly the juice of
human nature.]
We are now in a position to approach intelligently, enthusiastically
and reverently the mighty works of Beethoven which, though built upon
the foundations of Haydn and Mozart, yet take us into an entirely new
world of power and fancy. For illustrations we select the first
movement of the _Third_ or _Heroic_ Symphony; the _Seventh Sonata in D
major_ for Pianoforte; the _Fifth Symphony in C minor_ (entire) and
the _Coriolanus_ Overture. In regard to the symphonies it is
understood that the emphasis on certain ones and the omission of
others implies no ultra-critical attitude. Each of Beethoven's
symphonies has its characteristic attributes and each is the work of a
genius. But just as in Nature some mountains are more majestic than
others, so concerning the nine symphonies we may say that their order
of excellence as endorsed by the consensus of mankind would be as
follows. The First Symphony is somewhat experimental, composed when
Beethoven was working out his technique of expression. It is closely
modeled on the style of Haydn and, though showing certain daring
touches and though perfectly direct and sincere, is not of marked
individuality. In the Second Symphony a long advance is made, for we
find numerous traits which are thoroughly distinctive of the genius of
Beethoven: the exciting Prelude to the first movement; the heavenly
Larghetto, one of the first slow movements of real emotional power;
the rollicking Scherzo (note the fantastic touches in the Trio) and
the splendor of the last pages of the Finale, which can only be
compared to a sunset with its slowly fading colors and its last burst
of glory. The general style of the Second Symphony however is that of
Haydn and Mozart, though raised to the highest pitch of eloquence. In
the Third Symphony the complete Beethoven steps forth. It was his
declaration of independence, and in this work, as he himself said, he
began a completely new line of activity; it was also his own favorite
among the symphonies.[136] Heretofore there had been no such
impassioned utterance as is revealed in the first movement of this
Third Symphony and there have been few, if any, to equal it since. The
Fourth Symphony is an entrancing work and shows Beethoven's
inexhaustible variety of mood; since, save for the "grand manner"
peculiar to all his works, it differs strikingly from the Third and
the Fifth. It was composed during the happiest period of Beethoven's
life and is related in its whole character to his emotions and
aspirations at that time.[137] The slow movement is the most sublime
love-song in music. The Fifth Symphony is undoubtedly the most popular
of them all, in the true sense of the term.[138] The reason for this
verdict is the unparalleled combination in a single work of the
emotional intensity found in the first movement, the touching appeal
of the slow movement, the mystery, followed by the reckless display of
spirit, in the Scherzo and the paean of rejoicing which rings through
the Finale. The Sixth or Pastoral, Beethoven's one excursion into the
realm of tone-painting based on natural phenomena, is of interest more
as a point of departure for the work of his successors than for its
intrinsic message. The conception of the possibilities of musical
description has so widened since Beethoven, and the facilities for
orchestral color so increased, that this symphony, though it has many
characteristic beauties, sounds a bit old-fashioned. The Seventh is
one of the most original of them all, incomparable for its rhythmic
vitality--the Apotheosis of the Dance, as Wagner called it.[139] If
rhythm be the basis of music and of life itself, this symphony is
thoroughly alive from start to finish, hence immortal. The Eighth is
the embodiment of Beethoven's (possibly) most individual trait--his
abounding humor. Never before had symphonic music played such pranks
as are found here, especially in the Finale. The Symphony is in fact a
prolonged Scherzo[140]--the third movement (a Minuetto) being merely
for contrast. The Ninth Symphony, composed in the philosophic period
of Beethoven's life, when he was attempting still greater heights, is
a vast work, the first three movements purely instrumental, and the
Finale, for the first time in symphonic literature, a union of solo
voices and chorus with the instrumental forces. The text was taken
from Schiller's "Ode to Joy." The spirit of the poem made a strong
appeal to Beethoven's humanitarian and democratic aspirations and
there is no question of the grandeur of his conception. But it is not
carping criticism to say that his thoughts were too heaven-soaring for
a perfect realization through any earthly means. Beethoven moreover
was seldom happy in writing for the human voice--he thought in terms
of the instruments--and it is not to be denied that there are several
passages in the Finale which consist of mere boisterous shouting. No
one save believers in plenary inspiration can give to this Finale the
whole-hearted admiration that is paid to the three instrumental
movements which are pure gold; especially the seraphic Adagio and the
Gargantuan Scherzo with its demoniacal rhythmic energy. To sum up the
foregoing estimates, if the student is forced to select and cannot
become equally familiar with all of the nine symphonies, a reasonable
order of study would be the following: the Fifth, the Third, the
Seventh, the Eighth, the Fourth, the Ninth, the Second, the Sixth and
the First. See Supplement No. 44.
[Footnote 136: See Beethoven, Kerst-Krehbiel, p. 45.]
[Footnote 137: Read the appropriate essay in _Beethoven and His Nine
Symphonies_ by Sir George Grove.]
[Footnote 138: Vox populi, vox Dei.]
[Footnote 139: D'Indy, however, in his _Beethoven_ (p. 61, English
translation) dissents from this view; not at all convincingly, it
would seem to us. For the basic rhythm of each movement is on a
definite dance metre and the theme of the first movement is a regular
Irish jig (Beethoven at one time being very much interested in Irish
folk-dances) with its typical three final notes, _e.g._
[Music]]
[Footnote 140: It was written, to use Beethoven's own words, in an
"aufgeknoepft" (unbuttoned) condition, _i.e._, free, untramelled,
rather than straight-laced, swaddled in conventions.]
We shall now make a few comments[141] on the first movement of the
_Third_ or _Heroic Symphony_, merely to stimulate the hearer's
interest, for the music may be trusted to make its own direct appeal.
After two short, sonorous chords, which summon us to attention, the
first theme, allegro con brio, with its elemental, swinging rhythm, is
announced by the 'cellos. It is often glibly asserted that these notes
of the tonic triad are the whole of the first theme. This is a great
misconception, for although the motive in the first four measures is
the generative basis for the entire movement, the arresting, dramatic
note of the theme is the C-sharp in measure five. This theme in fact
is a typical example of Beethoven's broad sweeps of thought; for
prolonged with secondary melodic phrases in the first violins and
flutes, its real close does not come until the 13th measure, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 141: These are based in this work and in all Symphonic
compositions on the full orchestral score (in the Peters edition); the
student is therefore recommended to adopt this practise. For in
Beethoven and all orchestral writers the thought and expression are so
integrally bound up with the tone color and idiom of the various
instruments that when their works are reduced to another medium much
of the eloquence is lost. For those who cannot handle an orchestral
score there are adequate arrangements for 2 hands, 4 hands and for 2
pianofortes in several standard editions. Those who have an advanced
pianoforte technique should certainly become familiar with the
virtuoso-transcriptions of the Beethoven Symphonies by Franz Liszt.]
After a varied repetition of the first motive of the theme, there
occurs a passage (measures 23-33)[142] which illustrates one of the
most characteristic features in all Beethoven's work, _i.e._, those
sharp dislocations of the rhythm, indicated by the sforzando accents
(_sf_) on beats usually _unaccented_ and often coupled with strong
dissonances. Although the basic rhythm is triple, the beats for
several measures are in groups of two quarter notes or their
equivalent, one half note, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 142: It is an excellent practise to number the measures of a
score in groups of _10_.]
No longer can we drift along in dreamy apathy; our vitality is
quickened as by the gusts of a tornado. There have been those who for
the first time in their lives were jarred from the even tenor of their
way by these impassioned onslaughts. When Beethoven's Symphonies were
first played in Paris, it is reported that the operatic composer
Boieldieu was much disconcerted, because, as he said, he liked
"musique qui me berce." The transition (measures 43-81) is a
remarkable example of Beethoven's power of creating ever more and more
excitement and expectancy. It contains _three_ subsidiary melodic
phrases, each of increasing rhythmic animation, _e.g._,
[Music]
and fairly whirls us into the beautiful contemplative theme at measure
81. This theme embodies some entrancing modulations into remote keys,
and then, after one of Beethoven's typical passages of hushed
pianissimo (beginning in measure 97) we are led through a series of
sforzandos, crescendos and titanic ejaculations to the overpowering
dissonances in measure 145, which with the tonic chord close the
Exposition in the dominant key. The Development (measures 164-396) is
extremely long and varied, but a perfect manifestation of spontaneous,
organic treatment--each portion growing inevitably from what has
preceded and marching irresistibly onward to its objective goal. Every
modulatory, rhythmic and polyphonic device is employed to vary and
intensify the message; yet, notwithstanding the diversity of the
material, we are held spellbound by the directness and coherence of
the thought. Such is Beethoven's passionate insistence on the right to
speak out just what he felt that in one stupendous passage (measures
246-277) it seems as if the very Heavens were falling about our heads.
At measure 282 a theme of ideal repose is interpolated--just the
contrast needed after the preceding cataclysm. The Development proper
is renewed in measure 298 and after a repetition of the interpolated
theme in measures 320-335 the rhythm of the first theme asserts itself
in all its majesty, carrying us upward to a veritable table-land of
sublimity. From this we are brought down through a series of
decrescendo, modulatory chords, like drifting mists, to an almost
complete cessation of musical life--nothing but a pianissimo tremolo
on the strings. From this hush there floats in upon us the rhythmic
motive of the first theme; then, with a _ff_ chord of the dominant, we
are suddenly brought back into the sunshine of the main theme, and the
Recapitulation has begun. This portion with certain happy changes in
modulation--note the beautiful variant on the horn in measures
406-414, _e.g._,
[Music]
--preserves the customary emphasis on the main tonality of E-flat
major, ending in measures 549-550 with the same dissonances which
closed the Exposition. Then are declaimed by the full orchestra those
two dramatic outbursts which usher in the Coda and which may be
likened to "Stop! Listen! the best is yet to come." The blunt,
intentional disjunction of the harmony adds weight to the assertion,
_e.g._
[Music]
Here we have a convincing illustration of Beethoven's individual
conception that the Coda should be a second and final development;
special points of interest and treatment being held in store, so that
it becomes a truly crowning piece of eloquence. Observe how the
reappearance of the interpolated theme balances the Coda with the
Development proper and how the various rhythms of the Exposition are
concentrated in the last page. Finally a series of bold, vibrato leaps
in the first violins--based on the dominant chord--brings this
impassioned movement to a close.
A lack of space prevents the inclusion in the Supplement of the rest
of the Symphony, but the student is urged to make himself familiar
with the three remaining movements: the Marcia Funebre, the Scherzo
and the Finale. The Funeral March is justly ranked with that of Chopin
in his B-flat minor Sonata and that of Wagner in the last act of the
_Goetterdaemmerung_ as one of the most eloquent in existence, and
contains melodies so touching that they could have come only from the
very soul of Beethoven. Especially noteworthy is the aspiring melody
of the middle, contrasting portion (Maggiore) where the spirit, freed
from earthly dross, seems to mount to the skies in a chariot of fire.
The third part, where the minor mode is resumed, abounds in dramatic
touches; especially that fugal passage, where the ecclesiastical tone,
combined with pealing trumpets, brings before us some funeral pageant
in a vast, medieval cathedral. The Coda, beginning in A-flat major,
with an impressive mood of resignation, illustrates at its close a
psychological use of programmistic effect; for the first theme,
treated as a real person, disintegrates before our very
eyes--becoming, as it were, a disembodied spirit. Nothing can show
more clearly than this passage the widening of the expressive powers
of music which we owe to the genius of Beethoven. The same effect with
a slightly different dramatic purpose is found at the end of the
_Coriolanus_ Overture.
The Scherzo, allegro vivace, in triple time, but marked _one_ beat a
measure = 116 (almost two measures per second!), is unsurpassed for
sustained brilliancy and daring rhythmic changes. It is so
idiomatically conceived for orchestra that only the barest idea can be
gained from a pianoforte transcription. The prevailing background is a
mass of shimmering strings, marked by Beethoven "_sempre pp e
staccato_" and against this stands out a buoyant, folk-song type of
melody on the oboe. After some mysterious and fantastic modulations a
_ff_ climax is reached which leads to the famous syncopated passage
where the orchestra seems to hurl itself headlong into space, _e.g._
[Music]
The Trio, with its three hunting horns, gives a fresh, woodland note
typifying Beethoven's love of nature. Some mysterious modulations lead
us back from the dim recesses of the forest to the sparkling animation
of the Scherzo. In this part of the movement Beethoven plays one of
his characteristic practical jokes; for, just where we expect the same
syncopated effect as before, the time is changed from 3/4 to 2/2, the
duration of the measure remaining the same, _e.g._
[Music]
This effect may be likened to the uproarious guffaws of a giant. The
Coda has a clear reminiscence of the dramatic C-sharp in the main
theme of the first movement, _e.g._
[Music][143]
[Footnote 143: D-flat being the enharmonic equivalent of C-sharp.
[Transcriber's Note: The music notation contains a D-flat.]]
Such an organic connection between movements begins to be very
frequent in Beethoven's works.
The Finale, Allegro molto, has caused considerable difficulty to the
commentators for reasons known only to themselves. Different forms are
assigned to it by different critics; one regrets the falling off of
inspiration, another asserts that the movement "does not fulfill the
requirements which the human mind makes of art; it leaves us
confused." Poor Beethoven! But why all this pother? If the inner
evidence of the music itself be any justification for structural
classification, this wonderful, inspired Finale is a series of free
Variations[144] on a double theme of which the parts are related to
each other as Soprano and Bass, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 144: The variations are not numbered and the demarcations
indicated only by certain cadential objective points.]
By beginning the first two variations with the less important of the
two melodies (_i.e._, the _bass_) Beethoven is simply indulging in his
fondness for piquing the fancy of the hearer by starting him on a
false trail--not giving away, as it were, his real purpose too soon.
Yet from the first announcement of the leading melody in the Third
Variation it assumes increasing importance, through successive
appearances in E-flat major, B minor, D major and C major, until after
a long fugal development we reach the inspired passage (Poco Andante
con espressione), _e.g._,
[Music]
in which the main theme is stated first in its noble simplicity and
then enhanced by an obligato melody on the oboe. It is one of the most
eloquent passages in all symphonic literature. At its last appearance
the real theme comes fully to its own--for the _first_ time in the
_bass_, that fundamental voice--where it is declaimed _ff_ in gorgeous
splendor by all the lower instruments of the orchestra. It is evident
that not even the most inspired genius can sustain such a flight for
ever, and after this magnificent paean the workings of Beethoven's
imagination resemble those of Nature herself. Following a tranquil
intermediary passage in A-flat major we enter upon one of those long,
mysterious periods of hushed suspense which may be compared to a long
expanse of open country or to the fading lights on the sea at sunset.
The last page, beginning with the Presto, is sheer orchestral
jubilation of the most intoxicating kind. We may picture an
enthusiastic gathering, with hats thrown aloft and shouts of triumph
ringing from every throat. It is of historical interest to know that
the theme of this Finale must have been a favorite with Beethoven, for
he had used it in three former works: a _Contre-dance_, as the basis
for a set of _Pianoforte Variations_ and in the _Ballet Music to
Prometheus_. It may not be too fanciful to trace a dramatic
relationship between its use in portraying the daring spirit who first
stole fire from Heaven and as the crowning message of a work meant to
glorify all heroic endeavor. A thorough familiarity with this movement
will repay the student not only as exemplifying Beethoven's freedom of
expression but indeed as a point of departure for so many modern works
in free variation form. See Supplement No. 45.
To illustrate Beethoven's Pianoforte compositions we shall now analyze
the _Seventh Sonata in D major_, op. 10, No. 3. Only wholesale
hero-worshipers consider all of the thirty-two Sonatas of equal
significance. It is true that, taken as a whole, they are a storehouse
of creative vitality and that in each there is something, somewhere,
which strikes a spark; for everything which Beethoven wrote was
stamped with his dominating personality. But the fire of genius burns
more steadily in some of the Sonatas than in others. It is the very
essence of genius to have its transcendent moments; only mediocrity
preserves a dead level. It is therefore no spirit of fault finding
which leads us to centre our attention upon those Sonatas which have
best stood the test of time and which never fail to convince us of
their "raison d'etre": the _Appassionata_, the _Waldstein_, the
_C-sharp minor_, the _Pathetique_, the _Sonata in G major_, op. 14,
No. 2, and _all_ the last five, especially the glorious one in _A-flat
major_, op. 119. It is futile to deny that some of the early sonatas
are experimental and that certain others do not represent Beethoven at
his best, being more the result of his constructive power than of an
impelling message which had to be expressed. The D major Sonata has
been selected for study because, though composed in Beethoven's first
period, it is thoroughly characteristic, and because its performance
is within the powers of the average intelligent amateur. The full
beauty of the later Sonatas can be realized only by great virtuosi who
devote to them years of study. The work is in four movements: the
first, complete Sonata-form; the second, modified Sonata-form; the
third, Three-part; the Finale, a freely treated Rondo-Sonata-form. The
first movement, Presto, begins with a vigorous presentation of the
main theme which ends in measure 22 with the last of three _ff_
octaves. The unusually long transition, containing a subsidiary theme
in B minor, is remarkable for its onrushing excitement and for the
playful false leads which usher in the second theme. After a brilliant
cadence in the dominant key, one would suppose this theme might be
announced in measure 53, but not so; after three measures of cantabile
melody, progress is interrupted by a group of descending octave leaps.
A second attempt is now made, this time in A minor, only to be
thwarted by a still more capricious octave descent. This time,
however, after a dramatic pause, we are rewarded with a clear-cut,
periodic melody beginning in measure 66, against which the rhythm of
the first theme keeps up a gentle undercurrent. Some interesting
modulations develop into a series of descending octaves which,
accompanied by _sf_ chords, lead to the closing portion. This
brilliant passage accentuates the dominant key of the second theme.
After a short tranquillo phrase and some free imitations of the main
theme we repeat the Exposition, or go on to the Development ushered in
by a bold change to the mediant key of B-flat major. After several
appearances of the main theme in the bass, Beethoven takes a leaf out
of D. Scarlatti's book and revels in some crossing of the hands and
some wide leaps. The Recapitulation corresponds exactly with the first
part until we reach the Coda in measure 298, which affords a striking
example of Beethoven's power of climax. After a long period of
suspense an imitative treatment of the first theme, with kettle-drum
effect in the bass, leads to a stringendo ascending passage which
closes with two crashing dissonances and two peculiarly grouped
chords, _e.g._
[Music]
They have a hard, cutting brilliance all their own and give just the
touch of color needed to finish this dazzling movement.[145]
[Footnote 145: By Beethoven everything is carefully planned. Note in
performance the contrast of mood suggested by these final chords and
the sombre register of the opening chords of the Slow Movement.]
In the Slow Movement, Largo e Mesto, there is a depth of emotion quite
unparalleled in the early history of music.[146] Certainly no composer
since Bach had uttered such a message. As soon as the movement begins
we are convinced that it represents the outpouring of a soul capable
of deep meditations upon life and its mysteries, and with the
eloquence at its command to impress these thoughts upon the hearer.
The number of themes and their key relationship are those of
Sonata-form, but instead of the usual development we have a new
contrasting theme of great pathos in the major mode. Observe the
poignancy of the dissonances, _e.g._,
[Music]
in the second theme of the Exposition which begins in measure 17, and
the passionate outcries in measures 35 and 37 of the middle portion.
Just before the Recapitulation, in measures 41-43, is an early example
of Beethoven's fondness for instrumental recitative--music speaking
with a more intimate appeal than words. The movement ends with an
impassioned Coda which, beginning with the main theme in the bass and
working up, more and more agitato, to a powerful climax, dies away
with mysterious fragments of the opening measures. The dissonant
element so characteristic of the whole movement is retained to the
end, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 146: According to d'Indy it is more truly pathetic than the
entire so-called _Pathetic Sonata_.]
The growing importance of dissonance may be seen from a comparison of
this movement with the average slow movements of Haydn and Mozart
These, although they have serenity and grace, beauty and finish of
form, and are sincere manifestations of the genius of their creators,
are yet lacking in passion. This placid mood and amiability of style
is shown by the comparatively slight employment of dissonances. By
unthinking and uncultivated persons dissonances[147] are often
considered as something harsh, repellant--hence to be avoided. But
dissonances contain the real life and progress of music. They arouse,
even take by storm our imaginations and shake us out of our
equanimity. Consonant chords represent stability, satisfaction and,
when over-used, inertia. The genius of the composer is shown in
establishing just the _right proportion_ between these two elements;
but if there is to be any disproportion let us have _too much_ rather
than too little dissonance, for then, at any rate, the music is
_alive_. Since Beethoven the whole development of music as a human
language shows the preponderating stress laid on dissonance; to this
fact a knowledge of the works of Schumann, Chopin, Wagner, Debussy and
Franck will amply testify.[148] The same analogy holds equally in all
realms of life, human and physical. The truest development of
character depends on the warring elements of good and evil. Honest
discontent is the first step to progress. Dissonance is the yeast of
music and should be welcomed for its invigorating influence.
[Footnote 147: A frequent confusion of thought is shown in the use of
the words "discord" and "dissonance." A discord is an unrelated noise,
as when one bangs with both fists on the key-board. A dissonance is a
logical introduction of intervals or chords made up of jarring factors
for their stimulating effect upon the imagination.]
[Footnote 148: Two of the greatest innovators in this direction,
Scryabin and Stravinsky, have been working in our own day, and there
is no doubt that by their daring experiments they have enlarged the
expressive powers of music. While it is obvious that the dramatic
effect of to-day stimulates the experimentation of tomorrow,
contrariwise, the immediate contribution of each innovator is to
render more clear the work of his predecessor, up to that moment the
confessed iconoclast.]
The third movement, Minuetto, may be taken as a reply to Haydn's
well-known wish "Oh! that some one would write us a new Minuet." Well,
here it is--with all the grace and charm of the 18th century type and
yet with more import, especially in the Coda with its haunting
retrospect. The rhythmic formation of the opening sentence would be
clearer if two measures had been thrown into _one_, for the swing is
clearly that of a 6/4 measure. The Trio, with its Scarlatti-like
crossing of the hands, is a playful bit of badinage, affording a
delightful contrast to the Minuetto. Such genuine variety in mood
makes the Three-part Form of lasting worth.
The Finale, Allegro, with its capricious fortissimo outbursts and
unexpected sforzandos is a characteristic example of Beethoven's
freedom of utterance. Any cast-iron conception of form was entirely
foreign to his nature; instead, he made form the servant of the freest
flights of fancy. The movement begins as if it were to be worked out
in the so-called Rondo Sonata-form--a hybrid, tripartite structure
related to the Sonata-form in that it has _two_ themes in the first
and last portions, and to the Rondo in that the middle portion is a
free Episode instead of the customary development of former material.
The salient feature by which this form may always be recognized is
that the Exposition closes with a _definite return_ to the first
theme--thus emphasizing the Rondo aspect--instead of with an expanded
cadence based upon the second theme. As we have stated before (see
Chapter IX), many of Beethoven's Finales are in this mixed form, clear
examples of which may be found in the last movements of the Fourth,
Eighth and Twelfth Sonatas. The Finale of the Twelfth Sonata has been
included in the Supplement in order to make this important form
familiar to the student. To return now to the Finale of the sonata we
are studying. Its first two portions correspond exactly to the usual
practice in the Rondo-Sonata form just explained; _i.e._, we find in
the Exposition a first theme, a modulatory transition, a second theme
(beginning in measure 17) and a definite repetition of the first
theme, in measures 25-32. Then, after two measures of bold modulation,
begins the middle, episodical passage which, closing with a whimsical
cadenza-like passage, leads back to the beginning of the third part.
After a complete, slightly varied appearance of the first theme,
Beethoven does not repeat the second theme, as we should expect, but
allows his fancy to indulge in a series of brilliant passages,
exciting modulations and dynamic contrasts. All this freedom is held
together by insistence on the fundamental rhythmic motive (measures
72-83). A final embellished statement of the first theme ushers in the
fiery Coda, in measure 92, which ends with a long running passage;
beneath, we hear reminiscences of the main theme. It is often stated
that Beethoven's Sonatas are lacking in pianistic effect, and it is
true that his pianoforte works do not bring out the possibilities of
color and sonority as we find them, for example, in Chopin and
Debussy--the orchestra and the string-quartet being indeed his
favorite media of expression. Yet during his entire early career
Beethoven was famous as a performer and improviser on the pianoforte
and some, at any rate, of his deepest thoughts have been confided to
that instrument. That he was not at all insensible to the beauty of
pianistic effect for its own sake is shown by the syncopated, shadowy
chords in measures 101-105, the whole justification for which lies in
their enchanting sound.[149]
[Footnote 149: For a very clear tabular view of the structure of this
Sonata see d'Indy's _Cours de Composition Musicale_, Book II, p. 332.]
SYMPHONY NO. 5[150]
[Footnote 150: This is not given in the Supplement. See preceding
remarks apropos of the Third Symphony. The comments are based, as
usual, on the full orchestral score.]
The _Fifth Symphony in C minor_, op. 67, is deservedly popular because
it is so human; a translation, in fact, of life itself into the
glowing language of music. Beethoven's emotional power was so deep and
true that, in expressing himself, he spoke, like every great
philosopher, poet or artist, for all mankind. Which one of us in his
own experience, has not felt the same protests against relentless Fate
that find such uncontrollable utterance in the first movement? Who,
again, is untouched by that angelic message, set before us in the
second movement, of hope and aspiration, of heroic and even
_warlike_[151] resolution, mingled with the resignation which only
great souls know? The third movement (Allegro)--in reality a Scherzo
of the most fantastic type, though not so marked--might well typify
the riddle of the Universe. We indeed "see through a glass darkly,"
and yet there is no note of despair. Amid the sinister mutterings of
the basses there ring out, on the horns and trumpets, clarion calls to
action. While we are in this world we must live its life; a living
death is unendurable. The Finale, Allegro maestoso, is a majestic
declaration of unconquerable faith and optimism--the intense
expression of Beethoven's own words, "I will grapple with Fate, it
shall never pull me down"--to be compared only with Browning's "God's
in his heaven, all's right with the world," and the peroration to
Whitman's _Mystic Trumpeter_, "Joy, joy, over all joy!" No adequate
attempt could be made to translate the music into words. The Symphony
is extremely subjective; indeed, autobiographic. For all historical
details as to its composition, the reader is referred to the Grove
essay,[152] and for eulogistic rhapsodies nothing can surpass the
essay of Berlioz, that prince of critics. We shall content ourselves
with a few comments of a structural nature and then trust the student
to seek a performance of the work by a good orchestra. Of the first
movement (Allegro con brio)[153] the dominant characteristics,
especially in comparison with the wealth of material in the _Heroic_,
are conciseness and intensity. It starts at once, without prelude,
with the motive--one of the tersest in music--from which is developed,
polyphonically, the first theme, _e.g._
[Music[A]]
[Footnote 151: This interpretation of d'Indy is based upon the
prevalence in the movement of the conventional martial rhythm [Music]
and carries, we must acknowledge, considerable weight. It is, however,
distinctly subjective and prevents no one from gaining quite a
different impression. We should be more inclined to accept the views
of the noted French scholar had he not been so wide of the mark, while
speaking of the Seventh Symphony, as to deny any appearance of
dance-rhythm in the first movement But the Irish composer, Villiers
Stanford, has shown conclusively that the theme is based upon the
rhythm of an Irish Hornpipe. Thus do the wise ones disagree!
Meanwhile, we others have the _music itself_.]
[Footnote 152: _Beethoven and his Nine Symphonies_ by Sir George
Grove.]
[Footnote 153: Beethoven's favorite mark of tempo and expression.]
[Footnote A: There are also some _p_ holding notes on the bassoons.]
Everything is concentrated in the highest degree and the assault upon
our consciousness is of corresponding power. A tempestuous transition
leads to two short _sf_ chords and then in measure 59, announced _ff_
by the horns, appears the first phrase of the second theme, based on
the same motive as the first, but in the relative major (E-flat),
_e.g._
[Music]
It is answered by a second phrase of marked simplicity and
loveliness--a mood, indeed, of resignation. This is only momentary,
however, for the relentless rhythm of the chief motive continues to
assert itself in the basses until, as it gathers headway after a short
closing phrase (95-99), it is thundered out _ff_ by the full orchestra
in a series of descending groups. The Development continues the same
resistless impetuosity. Note the grim effect of the empty fifths and
fourths in measures 126-127. Once only is there a slackening of the
titanic, elemental drive--in the mysterious passage (212-239) where
the pent-up fury of the composer seems to have exhausted itself. It is
only, however, a lull in the storm which breaks forth with renewed
energy in the Recapitulation and Coda. Observe the pathetic commentary
which the solo oboe makes upon the main theme at the outset of the
third part (268)--a flower growing out of the debris of the avalanche.
The Coda begins, at measure 374, with a passionate insistence upon the
fundamental rhythm, driven home with sharp hammer-blows and, as in all
Beethoven's symphonic movements, furnishes an overpowering climax, not
a mere perfunctory close. The second Movement, in A-flat major, is a
series of free[154] Variations (five in number) based on a theme,
Andante con moto,[155] of great rhythmic vitality, peculiarly rich and
suave--announced, as it is, by 'celli and violas in unison, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 154: Free, in that they are not numbered and are not
separated by rigid cadences; in that episodical passages--often of a
rhapsodic nature--are interpolated.]
[Footnote 155: The tempo is often taken by conductors too slowly, thus
losing much of its buoyancy.]
The first two presentations of the theme are in each case followed by
a passage of martial character which bursts triumphantly into C major.
There is an orchestral touch of great beauty and originality in the
first and second variations (beginning in measures 49 and 98
respectively), where a solo clarinet--later a flute, oboe and
bassoon--prolongs a single tone which seems to float above the melody
like a guiding star.[156] A passage of special significance is that in
measures 123-146, where Beethoven indulges in a touching soliloquy
upon his main theme. It is mysteriously introduced by the repetition,
eight times, _pp_, of the dominant chord (the simplest medium of
suspense) which seems to say "Hush, I have something most intimate
reveal." The Coda (Piu Moto) begins with a mood of wistful reverie,
but the clouds are soon dispelled and the movement ends in radiant
sunshine.
[Footnote 156: While listening to this passage one is instinctively
reminded of Keats's "Bright and steadfast star, hung aloft the
night."]
The salient structural feature in the last two movements[157] is that
they are merged together; there is no pause after the Scherzo; and
the movements are further interlocked by an interpolation, in the
middle of the Finale, of a portion of the preceding Scherzo--a kind of
inter-quotation or cross reference. This composite movement is a
striking example of the organic relationship which Beethoven succeeded
in establishing--between the different movements of the symphony.
Prior to him, it is fair to say--to use a homely simile--that a sonata
or a symphony resembled a train of different cars merely linked
together, one after the other; whereas the modern work, as
foreshadowed by Beethoven, is a vestibuled train: one indivisible
whole from beginning to end.[158] But before the Fifth Symphony there
had been no such systematic unification; for it is not too much to say
that the whole work is based upon the persistent iteration of a single
note in varied rhythmic groups. Thus in the first movement we find
continually the rhythm [Music]; in the second, in several places
[Music]; in the Scherzo [Music]; and in the Finale [Music].
Furthermore a C, repeated by the kettle-drums for fifty measures, is
the chief factor in the connecting link between the Scherzo and the
Finale. We shall observe this tendency to interconnection still
further developed by Schumann in his Fourth Symphony, by Liszt in the
Symphonic Poem[159] (to be treated later), and a climax of attainment
reached in such highly unified works as Cesar Franck's D minor
Symphony and Tchaikowsky's Fifth. To return to the Scherzo, well
worthy of note is the Trio, in free fugal form (its theme announced by
the ponderous double basses), because it is such a convincing
illustration of the humorous possibilities inherent in fugal style.
The way in which the voices chase each other about--compared by
Berlioz[160] with the gambols of a delighted elephant--and their
spasmodic attempts at assertion, produce an effect irresistibly droll.
The humour is as broad as that of Aristophanes or Rabelais. Words are
powerless to describe the thrill of the last fifty measures which
launch us into the Finale. We may merely observe that this long
passage, _pp_ throughout until the last molto crescendo, and with the
rhythmic element reduced to a minimum, makes more of an impact upon
our imagination than that of the loudest orchestral forces ever
conceived. We are reminded of the effect of the "still, small voice"
after the thunders on Sinai. The Finale, with its majestic opening
theme in fanfare, contains a wealth of material and is conceived
throughout in the utmost spirit of optimistic joy and freedom.[161]
The Exposition has a subsidiary theme of its own, beginning at measure
26, which reappears with rhythmic modification (diminution), and most
eloquently announced by the bassoons, in the first section of the
final Coda. After the brilliant second theme (45-63) there is an
impressive closing theme (with some biting _fp_ dissonances) which
forms the basis of the Presto portion of the Coda. The Development is
a marvellous treatment of the second theme, in imitation, modulation
and climactic growth; the rhythm [Music], so vitally connected with
the whole work, persisting with stupendous energy. In the final
measures it would seem as if Beethoven were storming the very heavens.
Here occurs the quotation from the preceding Scherzo which binds the
movements together and serves as a point of departure for a still
greater climax. It seems unreasonable to expect a higher flight, but
the genius of Beethoven is equal to the effort. If, before, we have
reached the heavens, now we pierce them. The brilliant Coda--note the
ascending runs for the piccolo--is in three sections, the first based
on the subsidiary theme, _e.g._,
[Music]
the second on the closing theme in quickened tempo, _e.g._,
[Music[B]]
and the third, a canonic treatment of the opening fanfare, _e.g._,
[Music]
in which the orchestra seems to tumble head over heels in a paroxysm
of delight. The movement closes with prolonged shouts of victory and
exultation.[162]
[Footnote 157: Taken separately, the movements are perfectly normal;
the Scherzo in the usual Three-part form and the Finale in complete
Sonata-form.]
[Footnote 158: There are traces of this striving for organic unity in
several of the early Sonatas, notably in the _Sonata Pathetique_,
where the motive of the first theme of the Finale is identical with
that of the second theme of the opening movement _e.g._
[Music: 1st Movement]
[Music: Finale]
Also in the C-sharp minor Sonata, op. 27, we find a case of melodic
relationship between a phase in the introductory meditation and the
main theme of the Minuet.]
[Footnote 159: A Symphonic Poem is a descriptive composition for
orchestra which incorporates many of the customary symphonic moods;
but the form is free, largely dependent on the poetic basis, and the
structure is without stops, being one continuous whole.]
[Footnote 160: His exact words are--"Le milieu (the trio) ressemble
assez aux ebats d'un elephant en gaiete--mais le monstre s'eloigne et
le bruit de sa folle course se perd graduellement."]
[Footnote 161: Its motto might well be Browning's famous lines: "How
good is man's life, how fit to employ all the heart and the soul and
the senses forever in joy."]
[Footnote B: This pianoforte figure being a very inadequate substitute
for the restless tremolo of the violas, _i.e._, [Music].]
[Footnote 162: For suggestive comments by the noted critic E.T.A.
Hoffmann, one of the first to realize the genius of Beethoven, and for
a complete translation of his essay on the Fifth Symphony see the
article by A.W. Locke in the Musical Quarterly for January, 1917.]
THE CORIOLANUS OVERTURE
This dramatic work is of great importance, not only for its emotional
power and eloquence, but because it represents a type of Program
music, _i.e._, music with a suggestive title, which Beethoven was the
first to conceive and to establish. From the inherent connection
between the materials of music (sound and rhythm) and certain natural
phenomena (the sound and rhythm of wind, wave and storm, the call of
birds, etc.) it is evident that the possibility for Program--or
descriptive--music has always existed.[163] That is, the imagination
of musicians has continually been influenced by external sights,
sounds and events; and to their translation into music suggestive
titles have been given, as a guide to the hearer. Thus we find
Jannequin, a French composer of the 16th century, writing two
pieces--for _voices_!--entitled "_Les cris de Paris_" and "_La
Bataille--defaite des Suisses a la journee de Marignan_;" in the
former of which are introduced the varied cries of street venders and
in the latter, imitations of fifes, drums, cannon and all the bustle
and noises of war. In the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book there is a
Fantasie by John Mundy of the English school, in which such natural
phenomena as thunder, lightning and fair weather are delineated. There
is a curious similarity between the musical portrayal of lightning in
this piece[164] of Mundy and that of Wagner in the _Valkyrie_. In the
_Bible Sonatas_ of the German composer Kuhnau (1660-1722) we have a
musical description of the combat between David and Goliath. Anyone at
all familiar with the music of Couperin and Rameau will recall the
variety of fantastic titles assigned to their charming pieces for the
clavecin--almost always drawn from the field of nature: birds, bees,
butterflies, hens, windmills, even an eel! It is but fair to state
that we also find attempts at character drawing, even in those early
days, as is indicated by such titles as _La Prude_, _La Diligente_,
_La Seduisante_.[165] Haydn's portrayal of Chaos, in the Prelude to
the _Creation_, is a remarkable mood-picture and shows a trend in
quite a different direction. All these instances corroborate the
statement that, in general, composers were influenced by external
phenomena and that their program music was of an imitative and often
frankly literal kind. From what we know of Beethoven's nature and
genius, however, we should imagine that he would be far more
interested in the emotions and struggles of the soul and we find that
such indeed is the case. With the exception of the _Pastoral Symphony_
with its bird-calls and thunderstorm and the _Egmont_ Overture with
its graphic description of a returning victorious army, his program
music invariably aims at the description of character and the manner
in which it is influenced by events--_not_, be it understood, at a
musical portrayal of the events themselves. This difference in type is
generally indicated by the terms _subjective_ and _objective_, _i.e._,
program music is subjective, when it deals with the emotions and moods
of real or historical persons; objective, when it is based upon
incidents or objects of the actual world. It is evident that in
subjective program music an adjustment must be made, for the dramatic
needs of the subject are to be considered as well as the inherent laws
of music itself. We may state that the widening of the conception of
form, so marked in modern music, has been caused by the need of such
an adjustment; for as composers became more cultivated, more in touch
with life and of more richly endowed imagination, the arbitrary
conventions of strict form had perforce to yield to the demands of
dramatic treatment. This implies not that program music is without a
definite structure, only that the _form_ is _different_--modified by
the needs of the subject. As there is no other point in aesthetics
which has caused more loose thinking, a few further comments may be
pertinent. Some critics go so far as to deny the right of existence to
all program music.[166] Of course there is good as well as bad program
music, but to condemn it _per se_ is simply to fly in the face of
facts, for a large proportion of the music since Beethoven is on a
poetic basis and has descriptive titles. Others claim that they cannot
understand it. But that is their loss, not the fault of the music; the
composer writes it and it is for us to acquire the state of mind to
appreciate it. Another misleading allegation, often heard, is that a
piece of program music should be so clear and self-sufficient that the
hearer needs to know nothing of the title to derive the fullest
enjoyment. But this simply begs the question. As well say that in
listening to a song we need to know nothing of the meaning of the
text. It is true that in listening to Beethoven's _Coriolanus_, for
example, any sensitive hearer will be impressed by the vitality of the
rhythm and the sheer beauty of orchestral sound. But to hold that such
a hearer gets as much from the work as he who knows the underlying
drama and can follow sympathetically the correspondence between the
characters and their musical treatment is to indulge in reckless
assertion. The true relationship between composer and hearer is this:
when works are entitled _Coriolanus_, _Melpomene_, _Francesca da
Rimini_, _Sakuntala_, _L'apres-midi d'un Faune_, _The Mystic
Trumpeter_, _L'apprenti Sorcier_, and the composers reveal therein the
influence such subjects have had upon their imagination, they are
paying a tacit compliment to the hearer whose breadth of intelligence
and cultivation they expect to be on a par with their own. If such be
not the case, the fault is not the composer's; the burden of proof is
on the listener.[167] Let us now trace certain relationships between
the drama of _Coriolanus_ and the musical characterization of
Beethoven. The Overture was composed as an introduction to a tragedy
by the German playwright von Collin, but as the play is obsolete and
as both von Collin and Shakespeare went to Plutarch for their sources,
a familiarity--which should be taken for granted[168]--with the
English drama will furnish sufficient background for an appreciation
of the music. The scene before the city gates is evidently that in
which Volumnia and Virgilia plead with the victorious warrior to
refrain from his fell purpose of destruction. The work is in
Sonata-form, since the great Sonata principle of _duality_ of _theme_
exactly harmonizes with the two main influences of the drama--the
masculine and the feminine. It is of particular interest to observe
how the usual methods of Sonata-form procedure are modified to suit
the dramatic logic of the subject. The work begins Allegro con brio,
with three sustained Cs--as if someone were stamping with heavy
foot--followed by a series of assertive _ff_ chords for full orchestra
(note the piercing dissonance in the 7th measure), which at once
establishes an atmosphere of headstrong defiance. The first theme,
beginning in measure 15 with its restless rhythm, is not meant to be
beautiful in the ordinary sense of the term--"a concourse of sweet
sounds"; rather is it a dramatic characterization, a picture in terms
of music, of the reckless energy and the fierce threats which we
naturally associate with Coriolanus. The theme is repeated and then
the transition develops this masculine mood in an impassioned
manner--observe the frequency of _sf_ accents and the crashing
dissonances[169]--until a sustained note on the violins, followed by a
descending cantabile phrase, brings us to the second theme, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 163: A complete account of this development may be found in
the first two chapters of Niecks's _Programme Music_.]
[Footnote 164: For an excellent description of this piece, as well as
others of the period, see the volume by Krehbiel _The Pianoforte and
Its Music_.]
[Footnote 165: A comprehensive and invaluable description of the works
and style of Couperin and Rameau may be found in the _History of the
Pianoforte and its Players_ by Oscar Bie. For an early example of what
is now called "poetic atmosphere" everyone should know Couperin's
piece _Les Barricades Mysterieuses_ which is more suggestive when
played on the clavecin with its delicate tone.]
[Footnote 166: A favorite term of opprobrium is that the program is a
"crutch."]
[Footnote 167: There are several essays which will help the student
toward clear thinking on this important subject: the valuable essay
_Program Music_ in Newman's _Musical Studies_, the article on the
subject in Grove's Dictionary, and the exhaustive volume by Niecks;
some of his views, however, are extreme and must be accepted with
caution. Above all should be read Wagner's interpretation of
Coriolanus in his essay on the Overture (English translation by W.A.
Ellis).]
[Footnote 168: Twenty-five years' experience as a college teacher,
however, has proved that _too much_ may be taken for granted!]
[Footnote 169: It is unfortunate that the diminished seventh chord
does not sound so fierce to our modern ears as it undoubtedly did in
Beethoven's time, but that is simply because we have become accustomed
to more strident effects.]
This theme, in distinction from the first, typifies the appeal for
mercy made by the women in the drama. No contrast could be stronger
than that between these two themes--the first, impulsive, staccato, of
sweeping range, and in the minor; the second, suave, legato,
restrained and in the major. They show indeed how powerfully
Beethoven's imagination was impressed by the subject. After an
eloquent expansion of the second theme there follow several stormy
measures (the deprecations of the women are at first of no avail) that
lead through a crescendo to a closing theme, at measure 83, in which
the mood of defiant assertion is strongly marked. The exposition
closes in this mood, in measure 100, and the following Development
accentuates it through several successions of restless, crescendo
passages until a _ff_ descent sweeps us back to the Recapitulation, in
measure 151. It is now evident that the furious intentions of the
warrior have raged themselves out, for not only is the theme which
represents him much shortened but it loses somewhat of its former
fiery intensity. From here on, the trend of the music is largely
modified by the dramatic demands of the subject. That the appeals of
the women are beginning to prevail is evident from the emphasis laid
on the second theme, which gives its message no less than _three_
times, instead of the single appearance which we should expect in the
usual Recapitulation. The third appeal, in measures 247-253, is
rendered most pathetic by being expressed in the minor mode. In the
Coda there are fitful flare-ups of the relentless purpose, but that
the stubborn will has been softened is evident from the slowing down
of the rhythm, in measures 285-294. Finally, in the wonderful closing
passage, we have a picture of broken resolves and ruined hopes. The
theme disintegrates and fades away--a lifeless vision. Although much
of the structure in this overture is identical with that which
prevails in absolute music--for, after all, the composer must be true
to the laws of his medium of expression--there is enough _purely
dramatic_ treatment to justify the foregoing analysis. Beethoven, at
any rate, called the overture Coriolanus, and we may be sure he meant
it to _represent_ Coriolanus and to be something more than a skillful
combination of sounds and rhythms.
We now add a few last words on the quality of Beethoven's themes in
his moments of supreme inspiration. The unshaken hold which his music
has upon the affections of mankind is due chiefly to two striking
characteristics: first, the way in which he dramatized everything--themes,
instruments, even _single_ notes, _i.e._, treating them as actual
factors in life itself rather than as artistic abstractions; second,
the spirituality and sublimity in his immortal message. The first
quality is exemplified in a number of passages, notably in the first
movement of the Violin Concerto and in the Finale of the Eighth
Symphony. In the opening measures of the Concerto the use of the
single note D-sharp, and the entry _pp_ of the F natural in the
following passage--in each case, entirely disconnected from the normal
rules of musical grammar--are most dramatic, _e.g._
[Music]
At the mysterious entrance of the F natural in this passage it would
seem as if some mighty spirit were suddenly looking over our shoulder.
In the Finale of the Eighth Symphony what can be more startling than
the sudden explosive entrance of the unrelated C-sharp--before the
orchestra continues its mad career--which can be compared only to the
uproarious laughter of Rabelais himself, _e.g._
[Music]
There are numerous examples in Beethoven showing his dramatic use of
such orchestral instruments as the bassoons, horns, kettle-drums and
double basses. Possibly the most striking[170] is the Slow Movement of
the G major Pianoforte Concerto--that inspired dialogue, as it has
been eloquently called, "between Destiny and the human soul," in which
the touching appeals of the solo instrument are constantly interrupted
by the sinister mutterings and forebodings of the strings. Observe
especially the closing measures where the basses, alone are heard
_pp_, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 170: See, however, the octave leaps of the kettle-drums in
the Scherzo of the Ninth Symphony.]
A spiritual quality escapes verbal definition; but just as we can feel
it in certain characters, and just as we recognize the sublime in
nature and in such works of art as a cathedral or a Shakespearian
Drama, so we may find it in the following specific examples from his
works: the Trio of the second movement of the Seventh Symphony; the
Slow Movement theme of the B-flat major Trio and the Slow Movement of
the Sonata op. 109. (See Supplement Nos. 47, 48, 49.) Anyone who
allows these themes to sink into his consciousness is carried into a
realm of ideality where he begins to recognize the truth that "the
things which are unseen are eternal." Music of this transporting power
is far above that which merely excites, amuses or even fascinates; and
of such music Beethoven is the poet for all time.
We have referred above to the voluminous literature extant concerning
Beethoven. Several scholars, in fact--notably Alexander Thayer and Sir
George Grove--have devoted a large part of their lives to finding out
all there is to be known about his life and works. Obviously the
layman cannot be expected to become familiar with this entire mass of
historical and critical writing. The following books, however, may be
considered indispensable aids to those who would become cultivated
appreciators of Beethoven's masterpieces: the _Life of Beethoven_ by
Alexander Thayer--a great glory to American scholarship; the life in
Grove's Dictionary; the illuminating Biography by d'Indy (in French
and in English); _Beethoven and his Nine Symphonies_ by Grove; the
_Oxford History of Music_, Vol. V; and the essay by Mason in his
_Beethoven and his Forerunners_.[171] We cite, in closing, a
eulogy[172] by Dannreuther--in our opinion the most eloquent ever
written on Beethoven's genius:
"While listening," says Mr. Dannreuther, "to such works as the
Overture to Leonora, the Sinfonia Eroica, or the Ninth Symphony, we
feel that we are in the presence of something far wider and higher
than the mere development of musical themes. The execution in detail
of each movement and each succeeding work is modified more and more by
the prevailing sentiment. A religious passion and elevation are
present in the utterances. The mental and moral horizon of the music
grows upon us with each renewed hearing. The different movements--like
the different particles of each movement--have as close a connection
with one another as the acts of a tragedy, and a characteristic
significance to be understood only in relation to the whole; each work
is in the full sense of the word a revelation. Beethoven speaks a
language no one has spoken before, and treats of things no one has
dreamt of before: yet it seems as though he were speaking of matters
long familiar, in one's mother tongue; as though he touched upon
emotions one had lived through in some former existence.... The warmth
and depth of his ethical sentiment is now felt all the world over, and
it will ere long be universally recognised that he has leavened and
widened the sphere of men's emotions in a manner akin to that in which
the conceptions of great philosophers and poets have widened the
sphere of men's intellectual activity."
[Footnote 171: Suggestive comments from a literary point of view may
also be found in these works: _Studies in the Seven Arts_, Symonds;
_Beethoven_ by Romain Rolland--with an interesting though
ultra-subjective introduction by Carpenter; _The Development of
Symphonic Music_ by T.W. Surette; _Beethoven_ by Walker; _Beethoven_
by Chantavoine in the series _Les Maitres de la Musique_. As to the
three successive "styles" under which Beethoven's works are generally
classified there is an excellent account in Pratt's _History of
Music_, p. 419.]
[Footnote 172: This passage is to be found in the Life in Grove's
Dictionary.]