I. Allegro vivace e con brio
II. Allegretto scherzando
III. Tempo di menuetto
IV. Allegro vivace
Beethoven characterized his Eighth symphony as “a little symphony” and
in the same letter spoke of the Seventh as a great one; yet if Czerny is
to be believed the composer was vexed because the audience was cool when
the Eighth was first performed. He said, “because it is much better”
than the Seventh, which was played at the same concert. Authors often
pronounce strange judgments on their works, as parents often favor a
stupid or unpleasant child; but this composer had a right to be proud of
the little Benjamin—the colossal Ninth was not then born—for the Eighth
symphony is charged with the spirit of the greater Beethoven.
Some commentators have endeavored to read a programme into the symphony,
thinking perhaps thus to give it greater importance. One speaks of the
symphony as a “military trilogy”; another thinks the _allegretto_ is a
parody of Rossini’s manner, but the movement was written in 1812, and
Vienna did not go mad over the Olympian Rossini until after that year.
We even find Vincent d’Indy citing the Eighth as revealing impressions
of Nature made on the composer’s soul; the trio of the pompous minuet is
to M. d’Indy a representation in grotesque fashion of a peasant band,
and the Hungarian theme in the _finale_, the hymn of Hunyadi, denotes
the arrival of gypsy musicians in the midst of a festival.
The symphony needs not such support to excite extraneous interest. In
the music we find Beethoven in reckless mood, whimsical, delighting in
abrupt contrasts, shouting his joy, ready to play a practical joke.
There is, no doubt, the absence of the “fine taste” which Debussy misses
in the case of Beethoven and finds ruling the musical life of Bach and
Mozart. No, Beethoven was not Paterian in a struggle after taste. He was
an elemental person, coarse in his life, with an enormous capacity for
hard work. There are others who have been condemned for a lack of taste:
Euripides, Rabelais, Shakespeare, Verdi, Walt Whitman. De Quincey, a
stylist, found Goethe lacking in taste when he wrote _Wilhelm Meister_.
And in this symphony, characterized by mad jollity, and a playfulness
that at times approaches buffoonery, there are exquisite musical
thoughts; there are passages that for a moment sound the depths and
reach the heights.
* * *
The Eighth symphony was composed at Linz in the summer of 1812.
Beethoven was in poor physical condition in that year, and as
Staudenheim, his physician, advised him to try Bohemian baths, he went
to Töplitz by way of Prague; to Carlsbad, where a note of the
postillion’s horn found its way among the sketches for the Eighth
symphony; to Franzensbrunn, and again to Töplitz; and lastly to his
brother Johann’s home at Linz, where he remained until into November.
At the beginning of 1812 Beethoven contemplated writing three symphonies
at the same time; the key of the third, D minor, was already determined,
but he postponed work on this; and as the autograph score of the first
of the remaining two, the Symphony in A, No. 7, is dated May 13, it is
probable that he contemplated the Seventh before he left Vienna on his
summer journey. His sojourn in Linz was not a pleasant one. Johann, a
bachelor, lived in a house too large for his needs, and so he rented a
part of it to a physician, who had a sister-in-law, Therese Obermeyer, a
cheerful and well-proportioned woman of an agreeable if not handsome
face. Johann looked on her kindly, made her his housekeeper, and
according to the gossips of Linz, there was a closer relationship.
Beethoven meddled with his brother’s affairs, and, finding him obdurate,
visited the bishop and the police authorities and persuaded them to
banish her from the town, to send her to Vienna if she should still be
in Linz on a fixed day. Naturally, there was a wild scene between the
brothers. Johann played the winning card: he married Therese on November
8. Ludwig, furious, went back to Vienna and took pleasure afterwards in
referring to his sister-in-law in both his conversation and his letters
as the “Queen of Night.”
This same Johann said that the Eighth symphony was completed from
sketches made during walks to and from the Pöstlingberge, but Thayer
considered him to be an untrustworthy witness.
The two symphonies were probably played over the first time at the
Archduke Rudolph’s in Vienna, April 20, 1813. Beethoven in the same
month endeavored to produce them at a concert, but without success. The
Seventh was not played until December 8, 1813, at a concert organized by
Mälzel. The first performance of the Eighth symphony was at a concert
given by Beethoven at Vienna in the Redoutensaal on Sunday, February 27,
1814.
The _Allgemeine Musik-Zeitung_, in a review of this concert, stated that
the Seventh symphony was again heartily applauded, and the _allegro_ was
repeated. “All were in anxious expectation to hear the new symphony (F
major, 3-4), the latest product of Beethoven’s muse; but this
expectation _after one hearing_ was not fully satisfied, and the
applause which the work received was not of that enthusiastic nature by
which a work that pleases universally is distinguished. In short, the
symphony did not make, as the Italians say, a _furore_. I am of the
opinion that the cause of this was not in weaker or less artistic
workmanship (for in this, as in all of Beethoven’s works of this
species, breathes the peculiar genius which always proves his
originality), but partly in the mistake of allowing this symphony to
follow the one in A major, and partly in the satiety that followed the
enjoyment of so much that was beautiful and excellent, whereby natural
apathy was the result. If this symphony in future should be given alone,
I have no doubt concerning its favorable reception.”
There were in the orchestra at this concert eighteen first violins,
eighteen second violins, fourteen violas, twelve violoncellos, seven
double basses. The audience numbered about three thousand, although
Schindler spoke of five thousand.
We know from his talk noted down that Beethoven originally planned an
elaborate introduction to this symphony.
It is often said that the second movement, the celebrated _allegretto
scherzando_, is based on the theme of a “three-voice circular canon, or
round, _Ta, ta, ta, lieber Mälzel_, sung in honor of the inventor of the
metronome at a farewell dinner given to Beethoven in July, 1812, before
his leaving Vienna for his summer trip into the country.” This story was
first told by Schindler, who, however, did not say that the dinner was
given to Beethoven alone, and did say that the dinner was in the spring
of 1812. Beethoven was about to visit his brother Johann in Linz; Mälzel
was going to England to produce there his automaton trumpeter but was
obliged to defer this journey. Beethoven, who among intimate friends was
customarily “gay, witty, satiric, ‘unbuttoned,’ as he called it,”
improvised at this parting meal a canon, which was sung immediately by
those present. The _allegretto_ was founded on this canon, suggested by
the metronome, according to Schindler. Thayer[11] examined this story
with incredible patience, and he drew these conclusions: the machine
that we now know as Mälzel’s metronome was at first called a musical
chronometer, and not until 1817 could the canon include the word
“Metronom.” Schindler, who was seventeen years old in 1812, heard the
story from Count Brunswick, who was present at the meal, but was not in
Vienna from March, 1810, till the end of February, 1813, four months
after the completion of the symphony. Furthermore, Beethoven is reported
as having said: “I, too, am in the second movement of the Eighth
symphony—ta, ta, ta, ta—the canon on Mälzel. It was a right jolly
evening when we sang this canon. Mälzel was the bass. At that time I
sang the soprano. I think it was toward the end of December, 1817.”
Thayer says: “That Mälzel’s ‘ta, ta, ta’ suggested the _allegretto_ to
Beethoven, and that at a parting meal the canon on this theme was sung,
are doubtless true; but it is by no means sure that the canon preceded
the symphony.... If the canon was written before the symphony, it was
not improvised at this meal; if it was then improvised, it was only a
repetition of the _allegretto_ theme in canon form.” However this may
be, the persistent ticking of a wind instrument in sixteenth notes is
heard almost throughout the movement, of which Berlioz said: “It is one
of those productions for which neither model nor pendant can be found.
This sort of thing falls entire from heaven into the composer’s brain.
He writes it at a single dash, and we are amazed at hearing it.”
SYMPHONY NO. 9, IN D MINOR, WITH FINAL CHORUS ON SCHILLER’S “ODE TO
JOY,” OP. 125
I. Allegro, ma non troppo, un poco maestoso
II. Molto vivace; presto
III. Adagio molto e cantabile
IV. Presto
Allegro assai
Presto
Baritone recitative
Quartet and chorus: allegro assai
Tenor solo and chorus: allegro assai vivace, alla marcia
Chorus: allegro assai
Chorus: andante maestoso
Adagio, ma non troppo, ma divoto
Allegro energico, sempre ben marcato
Quartet and chorus: allegro ma non tanto; prestissimo
Much has been written about the Ninth symphony, a symphony that has been
and is a stumbling block to certain conductors and hearers. It is easy
to smile at such books as _Le Livre de la Genèse de la IX Symphonie de
Beethoven_, by Ricciotto Canudo, with its fantastical theories and
titles given to the leading themes, but the comments of more ordinary
mortals have led conductors into singular experiments. Some have
rewritten passages. Some, fearing the inherent difficulties in the
_finale_, have transposed this _finale_ a tone lower. There are hearers
who, knowing the theory of Wagner—that the Ninth symphony was the
logical end of purely instrumental music, and Beethoven introduced
singers in the finale to show his impatience with the orchestra as a
medium of full expression—look on the symphony as a polemical work and
in turn deny all absolute music written after Beethoven’s death.
The music remains, in spite of the commentators and the too anxious
conductors. The instrumental movements are among the proudest
achievements of man. Mr. Canudo may begin his “explanation” of the
opening _allegro_ by saying: “In the beginning was space; and all
possibilities were in space; and life was space”; he may find in a
certain page the “religious affirmation of Creation”; he may entitle the
first theme of the _adagio_ “The rhythm of the blessed cosmic night” and
thus take his pleasure.
The music of the first three movements is not the less sublime or
beautiful because it has no programme, because it has no text for
singers. With the exception of a few stupendous passages in the
_finale_, where Beethoven is among the stars, the _finale_ falls below
the movements that precede it. There is more frenzied joy in the
_scherzo_; there is greater, world-embracing humanity, a loftier, nobler
spirit in the _adagio_. The theme of Joy is not in itself one of
Beethoven’s most fortunate inventions, and there are pages both for
singers and for orchestra that disconcert even if they do not seem to
the hearer abnormal and impotent. The answer made by some is that if an
ideal performance could be attained the grandeur of the thought would
then be overwhelming. Unfortunately, human voices have their
limitations.
Yet if the first three movements are performed alone, there is a sense
of incompleteness. If the _finale_ is transposed, the effect is
diminished. And so the Ninth symphony as a whole is still a stumbling
block to many.
* * *
Beethoven made sketches for his Ninth symphony as early as 1815. The
symphony was completed about February, 1824. The idea of adding a chorus
to the last movement probably came to him only in the course of his
work, for there are sketches of a purely instrumental _finale_ which
Nottebohm says were made in June or July, 1823; but Schiller’s _Hymn to
Joy_ had long tempted Beethoven. At Bonn, in 1792, he thought of setting
music to it. His _Fantaisie_ for piano, orchestra, and chorus (1800)
contains the melodic germ that he afterwards used for Schiller’s words.
Perhaps the “mother melody” may be found in a folk song, “Freu’ dich
sehr, O meine Selle, und vergiss’ all’ Noth und Qual.” Wasielewski
thinks the origin is in a song of Beethoven’s, “Kleine Blümen, kleine
Blätter,” with text by Goethe, while the music was composed in 1810.
According to Beethoven’s sketchbooks, he was planning two symphonies;
one, for England, was to be purely instrumental; the other was the
_Sinfonie allemand_, either with variations after the chorus when it
entered, or without variations; the _finale_ with “Turkish music”—that
is, bass drum, cymbals, and triangle—“and choral song.”
In 1817, there was correspondence between the Philharmonic Society of
London and Beethoven with reference to the latter’s visiting England. He
was offered 300 guineas if he would come to London and superintend the
production of two symphonies to be composed for the Society. Beethoven
asked for 400 guineas; 150 to be paid in advance (one hundred were for
traveling expenses). The previous offer was repeated, but Beethoven
abandoned his intention of going to London.
At the first performance of the Ninth symphony in England (March 21,
1825), the programme read: “New Grand Characteristic Sinfonia, MS. with
vocal _finale_, the principal parts to be sung by Madame Caradori, Miss
Goodall, Mr. Vaughan, and Mr. Phillips; _composed expressly for this
Society_.” There was also a note in which it was said that in 1822 the
directors of the Philharmonic had offered Beethoven £50 for a symphony
to be delivered at the stipulated time; and as it had been performed and
published at Vienna before the Society could use it, the remuneration
was ample. It should be remembered that the Philharmonic Society,
learning of Beethoven’s sickness in 1827, sent him £100. Beethoven
acknowledged in most grateful terms, eight days before his death, the
receipt of the sum given him by these “generous” Englishmen, and spoke
of a tenth symphony wholly sketched, also a new overture, that he might
send to them. He had written to Ries in 1823 that only his poverty
compelled him to write the Ninth symphony for the Philharmonic; he had
sent to it the overture _The Dedication of the House_, and he asked Ries
to drive as good a bargain as he could for it. He had been vexed because
the Philharmonic Society had characterized three overtures delivered for
75 guineas in 1815: _Ruins of Athens_, _King Stephen_, and _Zur
Namensfeier_, as “unworthy” of the composer.
After Beethoven’s death, the Philharmonic Society reclaimed the gift of
£100, but was persuaded to withdraw the claim. A portion of the money
was applied to the payment of the funeral expenses.
The first performance of the Ninth symphony was at the Kärthnerthor
Theater, Vienna, on May 7, 1824. Musicians and wealthy amateurs
organized the concert, for the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde had refused
the undertaking on account of the expense. Beethoven then proposed to
give the first performance of the symphony and the great Mass in Berlin,
where Count Brühl, the Intendant of the Royal theaters there, was
favorably inclined. This led the Viennese patrons and musicians to sign
a petition, begging Beethoven to spare Vienna the shame. He reflected,
and consented. The programme, approved by the police, was as follows:
Grand Overture, Op. 124; Three Grand Hymns for solo voices and chorus;
Grand Symphony with a _finale_ in which solo voices and chorus enter, on
the text of Schiller’s “Ode to Joy.” The three “Hymns” were the _Kyrie_,
_Credo_, _Agnus Dei_, of the Mass in D. Sedlinsky, the chief of police,
acting on the advice of the Archbishop, had forbidden the printing of
“Sacred words” on a play-bill, and the church authorities were opposed
to the performance of missal music in a theater.
The solo singers were Henriette Sontag, Karolina Unger, Anton
Haitzinger, and J. Seipelt. The chorus was composed of amateurs from the
Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde. Ignaz Schuppanzigh was the concertmaster;
Michael Umlauf conducted. Beethoven asked for twenty-four violins, ten
violas, twelve violoncellos and double basses, and a doubling of wind
instruments. The rehearsals were laborious. The solo singers had great
difficulty in learning their parts. Mmes Sontag and Unger begged
Beethoven to make changes in their music. He was obdurate. Mme Unger
called him to his face “tyrant over all the vocal organs.” When he
refused to change the music, she said to Mme Sontag: “Well, then we must
go on torturing ourselves in the name of God.” The success of the
symphony was great, though the performance was imperfect. “There was
lack of homogeneous power, a paucity of nuance, a poor distribution of
lights and shades.” When the drum alone beat the _scherzo_ motive, the
audience applauded so that a repetition seemed inevitable. (It was of
the _scherzo_ that Rossini, hearing the symphony in Paris, exclaimed, “I
could not have written that.”) Mme Unger led Beethoven to the edge of
the stage that he might see the crowd waving hats and handkerchiefs. He
bowed and was calm. Mme Grebner, who had sung in the chorus, told Felix
Weingartner that Beethoven sat in the middle of the orchestra and
followed the score. Thalberg, the pianist, who was in the audience, told
A. W. Thayer that Beethoven was dressed in a black dress-coat, white
neckerchief and waistcoat, black satin small-clothes, black silk
stockings, shoes with buckles; but Thalberg was mistaken if Schindler’s
story is true, for he called on Beethoven just before the concert and
said, “O great master, you do not own a black frock-coat! The green one
will have to do. The theater will be dark, and no one will notice it. In
a few days the black one will be ready.”
The success was unprecedented; the net pecuniary result was a sum
equivalent to sixty dollars. Beethoven was angry. Some days after the
concert, dining in a restaurant with Schindler and Duport, he accused
them of having swindled him; nor would he be persuaded by Schuppanzigh
that the charge was absurd, for Beethoven’s brother Johann and nephew
Karl had watched the cashiers.
There was a second performance in Vienna on May 23, 1824, in the large
Hall of the Redoutes. Duport assumed all the expenses, and guaranteed
Beethoven 500 florins. The programme was not the same, but it included
the symphony, the _Kyrie_, and the overture. The hour, noon, was
unfavorable. Duport lost some hundreds of florins. These were the only
performances at which Beethoven could be present.
Beethoven had purposed to dedicate the symphony to the Tsar Alexander;
he finally dedicated it to Friedrich Wilhelm III, the King of Prussia.
The King answered, expressing appreciation, and saying that he had sent
to him a diamond ring. The gem turned out to be not a diamond, but a
reddish stone valued by the court jeweler at 300 florins in paper money.
The indignant Beethoven was inclined to return the ring; but he sold it
to the jeweler who had appraised it. Some thought that the “reddish
stone” had been substituted for the diamond ring on the way to Vienna.
Though Beethoven had long been fond of Schiller’s “Ode to Joy,” the
Ninth symphony was not conceived at first as a celebration of joy. In
1818, he had the plan of introducing voices into a symphony “in the
ancient modes,” but the text was to be relating to some Greek myth, or a
pious song.
The symphony begins _Allegro ma non troppo_, D minor, 2-4; but the chief
theme, though hinted at, does not appear until after sixteen measures.
There is a continuous melodic development which may be divided into
several distinct periods, but there is no marked contrast in character
between what might be called eight separate themes.
The second movement, _molto vivace_, D minor, 3-4, is a _scherzo_,
though it is not so called in the score. It is built on three leading
themes. The peculiar rhythm of the dotted triplet is maintained either
in the melody or in the accompaniment.
The third movement, _adagio molto e cantabile_, B flat major, 4-4, has
been described as a double theme with variations.
The _finale_ begins with several orchestral sections, the first
_presto_, D minor, 3-4. There are recitatives for the lower strings.
Finally, the baritone enters with this recitative:
_O brothers, these sad tones no longer!
Rather raise we now together our voices,
And joyful be our song!_
_Allegro assai_, D major, 4-5. The baritone “with the encouragement of
the basses of the choruses at the beginning,” sings the first theme.
Then follow passages for chorus, quartet, until the tempo changes to
_allegro assai vivace alla marcia_, B flat major, 6-8. There are later
changes in tempo until the final _prestissimo_, “in which the chorus
goes stark mad with joy.”
The following translation of Schiller’s ode is by the late Henry G.
Chapman:
_TO JOY_
_Joy, thou spark from flame immortal
Daughter of Elysium!
Drunk with fire, O heav’n-born Goddess,
We invade thy halidom!
Let thy magic bring together
All whom earth-born laws divide;
All mankind shall be as brothers
’Neath thy tender wings and wide._
_He that’s had that best good fortune,
To his friend a friend to be,
He that’s won a noble woman,
Let him join our Jubilee!
Ay, and who a single other
Soul on earth can call his own;
But let him who ne’er achieved it
Steal away in tears alone._
_Joy doth every living creature
Draw from Nature’s ample breast;
All the good and all the evil
Follow on her roseate quest.
Kisses doth she give, and vintage,
Friends who firm in death have stood;
Joy of life the worm receiveth,
And the Angels dwell with God!_
_Glad as burning suns that glorious
Through the heavenly spaces sway,
Haste ye brothers, on your way,
Joyous as a knight victorious._
_Love toward countless millions swelling,
Wafts one kiss to all the world!
Surely, o’er yon stars unfurl’d,
Some kind Father has his dwelling!_
_Fall ye prostrate, O ye millions!
Dost thy Maker feel, O world?
Seek Him o’er yon stars unfurl’d,
O’er the stars rise His pavilions!_