Musical Moments #48
“To us musicians the work of Beethoven parallels the pillars of smoke and fire which led the Israelites through the desert, a pillar of smoke to lead us by day, and a pillar of fire to light the night. His darkness and his light equally trace for us the road we must follow; both the one and the other are a perpetual commandment, and infallible revelation.”
Felix Mendelssohn
Ninth Symphony “Choral Symphony” (excerpt movement 4)
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Over these past few months, I have been grateful for your following the “Musical Moments,” for the kind words you’ve shared with me about them, and most especially for your taking time in listening to the talented musicians I am honored to serve. We will be transitioning to another format in a few weeks, and I hope you will join us in an interactive event series we are calling “A Conversation and a Concert.”
As I write the copy for this final offering, I contemplated simply saying…. “And now, from the last movement of the most iconic piece of classical music ever written, here is Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.” So, if you find that to be enough of an introduction, feel free to skip to the end of this piece and click the YouTube link. If not, I invite you to read some commentary about Mr. Beethoven and how he arrived at this glorious work.
Ludwig van Beethoven epitomized the belief that some people walk a fine line between genius and insanity, and he lived on that edge. He was bad-tempered, arrogant, often insulting, and moody but could also be loyal, affectionate, and even good humored.
Beethoven’s father and grandfather heard a young Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart perform in 1763, seven years before Ludwig’s birth, and when Beethoven began to demonstrate extraordinary musical talent, Johann Ludwig thought his son could be another celebrated prodigy like Mozart. But Beethoven’s father was not the teacher Mozart’s father was, and though young Ludwig was very skilled, and his notoriety grew, he did not obtain anything near the fame Mozart had achieved. And while Leopold Mozart was very controlling of his son, Beethoven’s father was cruel.
Reputable accounts of Beethoven’s childhood reveal that it was “a rare day that he wasn’t locked in the cellar or flogged.” To acquire the high level of skill Beethoven’s father deemed necessary, he forced his son to practice incessantly, including waking him up in the middle of the night to comply with his demand. When the young Ludwig wasn’t practicing piano, he was studying theory and playing violin. Many scholars speculate that the relentless discipline he endured as a child helped foster some of the anger and aggression we hear in his music. Though life’s circumstances deemed that music had chosen Beethoven, it often served as a source of misery for him as well.
As a child, Beethoven was an unkempt, grubby little boy who, already working as a professional musician, quit school at age 11. At age 16 he went to work for the elector as the court organist, replacing his first good teacher, Christian Neefe. Beethoven’s ability to read music at sight and to improvise was legendary.
Patrons in Beethoven’s hometown of Bonn, Germany sent him to Vienna to study with Mozart, but before any lessons could take place, he returned home to be with his dying mother, Maria. He said of her, “[She]was such a good, kind mother to me and indeed my best friend.” In reality, hers was the only unconditional love he probably ever knew. Because the family was so unstable, Beethoven stayed in Bonn for five more years to supervise his two younger brothers and to care for his father.
At age 22 Beethoven finally moved to Vienna where he studied composition with the prominent local composers Joseph Haydn, George Albrechtsberger, and even briefly with Antonio Salieri. Beethoven was not a good student, though, as he was stubborn, and his success as a concert pianist got in the way of his education. His talent made him a “rock star” admired by Viennese Society where he was in demand as a performer. He would later describe those first few years there as the most joyful of his life.
Many of Beethoven’s acquaintances chafed at his personality as he lacked social graces, did not possess any sense of protocol, and refused to follow societal norms such as being subservient to the royalty and patrons. He once told a prince, “There are and there will be thousands of princes, but there is only one Beethoven.” It seems that he was right, and his impudence, however annoying it might be, was tolerated because of his performing brilliance and rising reputation as a composer.
One of Beethoven’s many oddities was that he could often be found talking to himself, waving his arms and composing as he took long walks. He was detained after one such sojourn took him many miles from Vienna to the small town of Weiner Neustadt where he was found wandering. Beethoven had become lost and hungry and was gazing into people's windows. He was promptly arrested by the town’s constable who, because of the stranger’s disheveled appearance, mistook him for a tramp and put him in jail. The constable reported, “we have arrested somebody who will give us no peace. He keeps on yelling that he is Beethoven; but he’s a ragamuffin, has no hat, an old coat … nothing by which he can be identified.” After checking with the local church musician, the dirty, middle-aged man, who was indeed Beethoven, was released. The town sent him on his way—fed and with some new clothes.
Not only did Beethoven dress poorly and fail to consider personal hygiene a priority, he also possessed many annoying traits. He had a loud and unpleasant attention-getting laugh, a quick temper, and was known to have difficulty keeping servants. He could be violent and used such phrases to describe hired help as, “unbearable swine of a housemaid,” or “disgusting beast possessing extraordinary sauciness,” or “a “filthy tribe.” He wasn’t any nicer to the waitresses in his favorite restaurants. He called them “fat over-fed little pigs.” He would write music on menus or tablecloths and was known sometimes to leave without paying the bill, while on other occasions he over-paid and was extremely kind.
Beethoven famously suffered significant hearing loss by the time he reached his early thirties. As his hearing began to decline, he developed the habit of carrying a “conversation book” to communicate. These books not only tell us what he was thinking and doing, they give us a glimpse into his personality. One such example below provides the text of an exchange with a Viennese shopkeeper.
Beethoven: “Can you recommend me a tailor? Mine is a fool. This frock-coat fits me like a sack. I look as if I had stolen it.”
Shop-keeper: “I will send you the tailor who works for me.”
Beethoven: “Does he call himself an artist in clothes?”
Shop-keeper: “No, he remains true to the honest old name for his craft.”
Beethoven: “My stupid tailor cannot even sew on buttons properly. I have worn this jacket barely half a year, and five are already absent without leave.”
Though the exchange seems to suggest Beethoven’s concern about appearance, we’ve already seen that this was not without great lapses. Not surprisingly, beyond this lack of interest, Beethoven didn’t appear to be concerned with his living conditions either. One visitor to his apartment wrote that he lived in “the dirtiest, most disorderly place imaginable. Every chair was covered with plates of half-eaten food and draped with discarded clothing. The piano and the desk beside it were filled with half-completed, ink-smudged scores. And below the piano sat an unemptied chamber pot.”
Regarding food, Beethoven liked fish, but his favorite meals were scrambled eggs in a bread soup or bowl of macaroni with parmesan cheese. He drank his coffee very strong, and he certainly liked his wine, lots of it, which in later life exasperated other health issues.
Beethoven must also have been a difficult tenant. He moved, with grand piano in tow, nearly 40 times in just over 30 years, all in the city of Vienna while sometimes holding simultaneous multiple leases.
As one might predict, Beethoven also had strained relationships with his family members as well as many of his musical and artistic contemporaries who all had a Beethoven story to tell. After attending concerts and meeting him, composer Luigi Cherubini referred to him as “an unlicked bear cub.” Beethoven admired the poet Goethe, but after their first encounter, Goethe described him as having “an absolutely uncontrollable personality.” Stories by Hummel, Haydn, Rossini, Schubert, Liszt and others all validate his strong personality.
Again, perhaps not of great surprise, Ludwig Beethoven was unlucky in love. One of his friends stated that “he was always in love with someone. But it seemed to be never reciprocated.” He didn’t create a good first impression. He was small in stature, no taller than 5’4” with a severely pocked marked face, and he often wore torn and dirty clothes. Beethoven had the bad habit of becoming infatuated with unavailable women—usually of a higher social class and often married. And yes, there was an “Immortal Beloved” along with a host of other want-to-be love interests.
Among Beethoven’s anti-social traits, he was very suspicious of others. He was convinced that people were taking advantage of him, and he wrangled over terms and conditions of most financial contracts with his publisher and concert promoters. Beyond musical issues, he became engulfed in a lengthy legal battle over the guardianship of a nephew.
But we simply must look past the personal flaws Beethoven clearly embodied to see the brilliantly talented, long-suffering, and courageous composer revealed through the power of his music.
When writing to a friend in 1793, it is clear that the 9th Symphony was on Beethoven’s mind as he revealed his intent to set Schiller’s epic poem, “An die Freude” or as we refer to it, “Ode to Joy.” Finally, in 1822 he set this inspirational poem, but along the way he experimented with putting a chorus in the finale though his “Choral Fantasia.”
The premier of his 9th Symphony at a Viennese Theater in May of 1824 was accompanied by three movements of the Missa solemnis. The conductor, Michael Umlauf, instructed all the performers to ignore Beethoven who was on stage trying to offer tempi.
The work was a smashing success, but at the conclusion of the piece, the thunderous applause was wasted on Beethoven until a soloist turned him around to see an ecstatic audience throwing handkerchiefs and hats in the air with raised hands so that he could “see” the applause. The theatre house had never seen such enthusiastic response with five standing ovations. Beethoven left the concert hall deeply moved.
The fact that Beethoven could compose so beautifully, even after he became totally deaf, is not as surprising as it might seem. Intellectually, he could hear what he saw, but the fact he could not hear was a personal tragedy, nonetheless. He was deprived of the sensory delights of all music, just not his own. But through his misery and perseverance, Beethoven changed the world, believing that “Only art and science can raise men to the level of gods.”
An excerpt from a document found in Beethoven’s apartment after his death, written in October 1802, later known as the Heiligenstadt Testament, informs us of Beethoven’s suffering.
Though born with a fiery, active temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to withdraw myself, to live life alone. If at times I tried to forget all this, oh how harshly was I flung back by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing. Yet it was impossible for me to say to people, speak louder, shout, for I am deaf.
Ah, how could I possibly admit an infirmity in the one sense which ought to be more perfect in me than others, a sense which I once possessed in the highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy or ever have enjoyed.
My misfortune is doubly painful to me because I am bound to be misunderstood; for me there can be no relaxation with my fellow men, no refined conversations, no mutual exchange of ideas. I must live almost alone, like one who has been banished; I can mix with society only as much as true necessity demands. If I approach near to people a hot terror seizes upon me… So, I endured this wretched existence.
Musically, Beethoven straddled the transition from the Classical Era into the Romantic Era. He enlarged and refined existing musical forms such as the sonata, symphonies, and quartets. He was the first composer to write for a choir as part of a symphony. He made a living through commissions, teaching lessons and royalties from his compositions, making him the first truly, successful, free-lance musician.
I have described above a rather crude, ill-mannered, arrogant and difficult person. And yes, that is Beethoven. But the rough exterior belied the sensitive soul that must have suffered inwardly. In the end, people at his deathbed said that he roused himself from a coma to shake an angry fist at the heavens and then with a mighty flash of lightening, he was gone. A few days earlier, he said, “Friends, applaud, the comedy is almost over.”
Heavy metal contamination, often called lead poisoning, is thought to be a contributing factor in Beethoven's death as the substance was commonly used in medicines of the time. It has also been theorized that he consumed large amounts of lead from illegally fortified wine. Putting lead sugar into wine was a common practice to sweeten cheap vintages. When strands of Beethoven’s hair were examined, several centuries later, researchers discovered that his lead levels were 100 times higher than normal. Such massive poisoning likely explains the constant nausea, internal bleeding, intestinal pain, headaches, and certainly added to the destruction of his liver.
Ludwig van Beethoven in several significant ways clearly lived a rather miserable life filled with torment, rejection, pain and humiliation, yet he persisted. Through his misery, he kept composing, and for as long as he could, he continued to perform. The courage Beethoven demonstrated was born from his devotion to music and his determination, in his own words “brought forth all I felt within.”
I often wonder if we have better music from Beethoven because of his tortured life, or in spite of it? Regardless, on the 250th anniversary of his birth, we should celebrate this extraordinary genius and offer a heartly “Hail Beethoven!”
To Beethoven, great music was a proper fusion of inspiration and industry. His work has never fallen out of fashion, which is a claim that neither Bach nor Mozart can boast. His music is beautifully crafted, with always something to say, and Leonard Bernstein writes succinctly, it “is simply right.”
Today’s excerpt comes from a February 2020 performance of the Bach Festival Choir and Orchestra with soloists Soprano Mary Wilson, Mezzo-soprano Shirin Eskandani, Tenor Robert Breault, and Bass Kevin Deas. Also, please join us this fall in continuing to celebrate the music of Beethoven as our first visiting artist, Adam Golka, performs all Beethoven’s thirty-two piano sonatas.
We are more grateful than you can know for your continued care and support of the Bach Festival Society, especially during these past few months. On behalf of the organization, please accept my heartfelt gratitude.
-John V. Sinclair
“The impression produced by the Choral Symphony was great and solemn; ……. Bow, bow, oh millions’ burst forth as imposing and powerful as the voice of a whole community in a cathedral. It was wonderfully majestic.”
A review by Hector Berlioz