BEETHOVEN 200 YEARS AGO TODAY: Monday, March 6, 1826
Copyist Wenzel Rampl, who has been assigned to make a copy of Beethoven’s opera Fidelio as well as the Ninth Symphony and the Missa Solemnis, makes a brief visit to Beethoven with some questions about the copying work. He hasn’t been able to obtain a copy of Fidelio yet. Beethoven asks who he went to, after he wasn’t able to borrow Figini’s copy. Rampl tried Herr von Treitschke, who did the revised libretto of the opera in 1814. But he wasn’t able to borrow Treitschke’s copy either.
Rampl is unable to have a copying session tomorrow. He needs clarification on what order the works need to be copied. “Must the opera be finished before the Symphony?” Also, the only movement of the Mass that he has a choral score for is the Kyrie, and he needs the choral scores for the rest of the movements.
Conversation Book 106, 2v-3r.
Beethoven writes an urgent note to unpaid assistant Karl Holz sometime around now. “I am in the greatest financial distress, nothing but these 100 florins C.M., which I am sending you. If it is at all possible, I ask that you send me 5 florin banknotes in the meantime. With the rest, take your time—because of Castelli, don’t make much fuss with the diplomat—and sublimat.”
“A hasty farewell, I wanted to say in a hurry.”
“Farewell, amice amicus, Beethoven.”
Brandenburg Letter 2128; Anderson Letter 1503. As Sieghard Brandenburg notes, this letter is probably related to the contact with Prince Hatzfeld, the Prussian ambassador to Vienna, as to whom poet Ignaz Castelli was acting as go-between regarding the dedication of the Ninth Symphony to the Prussian King. Thus it likely dates from February or March of 1826, when these discussions were active.
Today, Beethoven’s Ninth is finally heard in Leipzig. It is to be published shortly in score and parts by Schott in Mainz as op.125, and the “Inaugural Overture” op.124 [Consecration of the House] will be printed at the same time. The Leipzig orchestra is giving its annual concert for the benefit of the fund for old and sick members of the orchestra and their widows. The Berliner allgemeine musikalische Zeitung gives a very long and surprisingly rather unfavorable review of the concert, extending through two issues: (Nr.26) of June 28, 1826 at 203-204, and Nr.27 of July 5, 1826 at 213-217. The review was written by Christian Gottlob Rebs (1773-1843), a theologian, composer, high school teacher and music director in Zeitz, according to Wie Beethoven auf den Sockel kam. Editor Adolph Bernhard Marx did not agree at all with Rebs. Because it reflects upon the inability of the musical critics of the time–even those highly disposed to appreciate the composer–to understand Beethoven’s late works, we quote the review at length.
“Since it finds its outstanding fame in powerful performances of great instrumental music, and also knows the audience’s decisive appreciation of it, especially for Beethoven’s brilliant works, one would certainly expect great participation by the audience in this concert, if one were to perform Beethoven’s latest, as yet unknown works in it. Thanks to the kindness of the aforementioned publisher, the orchestra’s directors were able to obtain parts for these works; the full score had not yet been printed. And so, with great obstacles but still great enthusiasm, rehearsals for the gigantic symphonic work began, which was finally performed for the first time on the day mentioned. But I will tell you about the pieces one by one, as they followed in this excellent concert.”
“The first part opened with the great festival overture with its inviting fanfares. Although not as rich in ideas as earlier works by this master, it also revolves around a single key – in C – for far too long. But … the execution is nevertheless artistic and the effect on the whole is brilliant and pleasing.”
[There follow descriptions of a scene and aria by Viktor Rifaut, and a Concertino for tenor trombone (actually composed for horn, op.45) by Carl Maria von Weber, which he dismisses as incoherent and ridiculous in this form. The review continues with his discussion of the Ninth, which the editor notes is written without benefit of the score having yet appeared.]
“In an egoistic age, it is said, the artist pushes himself forward from art; he wants to be considered its substitute. This should also apply to the composer, and the egoism of the composer can only be visible in the obstinacy with which he asserts his whim in contradicting art, inventing musical compositions that are rejected by the common sense of hearing (in which all music has its external basis), and connecting and dividing ideas as the whim may demand. The manifestation of such egoism can be small and unpleasant when the composer lacks the power of imagination and feeling, and when empty artificiality seeks to replace art, and even ridiculous when poverty and impotence affect originality.”
“But there can also be an egoism that appears with Promethean boldness and piles Ossa upon Pelion in order to find the gods in their abodes. Such a giant – I must confess my opinion without prejudice – Beethoven appears to me in this last symphony, which in every respect goes so far beyond what is present in earlier works, that although one can indeed see traces of his artistic direction in these earlier works, in this one all the traits of his individuality are raised to an unheard-of height. With his power he repels as often as he attracts and delights; he tenses, stuns and exhausts, and does not allow the listener to be truly happy with his wealth of ideas, and all this – it seems to me – is as he wants it.” [The editors include a footnote: “At the request of the editors, the author has not waited for the publication of the full score, which is noted here at his own insistence. May the highly meritorious firm of Schott soon provide us with the score, so that we may have an opportunity for further discussion of this greatest of instrumental works.”
“But here I am only expressing, I would like to point out, the overall impression that this work made on me after two performances prepared with extraordinary diligence by our orchestra. I do not want to make any claim to a judgment on such a master and his work. I only ask that anyone who has become acquainted with it compare the impression it makes on him with what I have expressed here, without prejudice and without considering the Master’s personal circumstances.”
“If I were to speak of the impression that this symphony made upon our musical public, which, as I said, is extremely well-educated regarding Beethoven’s symphonies, I could not report anything other than that it was generally unfavorable, and that it has robbed most of those who are not uneducated listeners, but rather energetic friends of music, and who have devoted themselves to Beethoven’s earlier works with great interest, of their faith in the Master’s subsequent productions.”
“However, one can cite what has often been said in similar cases, that a great and original work does not always appeal immediately and is not correctly understood, that it takes time to fully penetrate an as-yet-unprepared public – and in fact, many things were clarified in a pleasing way after the second hearing.”
“There are also many mistakes and defects in the performance of such a difficult piece of music, and as many things which the idolatry of those who worship the letter praises as an original feature of the Master they worship, may when the score is examined closely perhaps shrink into mere vocal errors, and for this reason I do not want to attach any importance to the authority of the impression it makes upon an audience.”
“Moreover, my view does not agree with the opinion of a large number of listeners insofar as they are repelled on the one hand and do not see the greatness of intention, the gigantic imagination and the artistic richness in individual passages on the other hand, and do not want to recognize the artist in the innermost area of his effectiveness. On the other hand, I cannot deny my convictions even in the face of mere possibility. Moreover, it does not matter whether a later judgment of the musical public overturns this view; errors must also pave the way for the truth.”
“The whole thing consists of four very long movements. The first is an Allegro, ma non troppo in D minor. Only after an almost monotonous introduction – in which the music is first intoned, and the upper voices indicate the two interval that are later imitated, against the tremolo of the violins – does a powerful, nerve-wracking theme enter, which is followed by a softer, subordinate episode. The soft and the strong struggle, as in the mighty battle of nature; now the themes intertwine in an interesting and charming way, and a deep natural sound emerges from this battle. Now the ear is hurt by the collision of heterogeneous tones, since the only principle of interest seems to be the description of nature, or in other words, the imitation of nature.”
“The artist’s intention often seems to be to choose a brittle material to work with, in order to create the most varied figures from it with admirable skill, to pile up terrors and obstacles, and then to free himself from them once again; a magnificent harmonic development is linked to strange ideas, and to a great extent much of it is less the result of an inner objective necessity, than of the caprice of a bold whim–so that the whole thing approaches fantasy and capriccio in its character. I am sorry that I do not have the score in front of me in order to be able to prove what I have said with quoted passages.”
“After the tension was so greatly increased by the battle between the notes that broke out in the first movement, the Molto vivace or Scherzo, in D minor, 3/8 time, does not provide any respite, as it is based on a light, humorous idea–or rather figure–but is also very artfully spun and interwoven. There is a rich, humorous life in this bouncing staccato movement, an excessive jubilation, a light flirtation, in which even the otherwise subordinate timpani, tuned in F, takes an active part, often interspersing the basic rhythmic figure throughout the movement.”
“One can say that in terms of boldness and inexhaustible wealth of skill in the performance, especially in the alternation of instruments, which often seem to chase one another in their flirtatious flight, this Scherzo goes well beyond Beethoven’s earlier scherzos; although in terms of its melodic basis it does not have the freshness and clarity of the earlier ones, which it recalls through its character (similarly to the Scherzo in the Sinfonie Eroica). The boldness goes so far that the brilliant composer often stops his streaming and rushing masses all at once and lets them stand still–like the old master in Goethe’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice with its animated brooms–and then leaves them to themselves again, as it were, and watches their play with a smile, as when he lets the alla breve enter, from which he nevertheless returns to the previous tempo and where the major gives way to the minor.”
“One of the most beautiful Adagios that Beethoven ever wrote is the third movement, the Adagio molto e cantabile 3/4 in B-flat major, which is filled with heavenly consolation. The gentle wind instruments dominate it. The flowing grand melody, which has something compelling about it, is gently reinforced in each section by responding instruments. But soon melody builds upon melody, the movement becomes artificial, heavy, and even overloaded in some places, one even loses the beat in the complexity of the rhythms and is led down labyrinthine paths that one struggles in vain to break through, then the basic melody sounds softly through, the tones of the blossoming age of innocence return, and the soul finds itself back in its homeland.”
“After this movement, which as a whole is magnificent in character, one can almost feel only displeasure at the fourth movement finale: presto in which the mass of the orchestra is united with the mass of the voices to sing the theme of joy in the most bizarre way in the world. I do not even want to take into account the grotesque way in which the song is introduced – how the double basses first rattle and hum a recitative solo; only then are the themes of the three earlier movements given one after another (without thereby entering into any connection other than that of memory) and only now, finally, the peculiar theme is, in a sense merely shown, revealed, whereupon it goes wildly into confusion, as if in a wild bacchanal.”
“A certain relaxation sets in, and finally the solo bass voice comes forward, and in a highly prosaic appeal (which one here tries to improve as best as possible, given the ornate and contorted figures that the composer had placed in this part) roughly recites the words: ‘Ihr Freunde, ihr Brüder, nicht diese Töne, nein andere etc. lasst uns anstimmen.'”
“How could a man who so deeply grasped Goethe’s spirit in Egmont give such triviality as an introduction to Schiller’s hymn? But I could overlook all of that. Yet the treatment of Schiller’s text itself drags the high, sweeping poem down to the core and mistreats the poetry in an incomprehensible way. For, firstly, this poem has been completely torn out of its joints, not only shortened—which would be unavoidable if it were to be treated differently in a large piece of music—but in fact mutilated, since, without any sense or reason, individual stanzas follow one another in a completely different order, as if these were the fragments that the composer happened to find in his memory, with the first stanza always repeated in between.”
“Secondly, the main melody itself does not bear the slightest trace of Schiller’s high spirits and, especially when it is sung more quickly, is more compatible with common drunkenness than with the poet’s enthusiastic, spiritual verve. It is made particularly annoying by the fact that the poetic words are counted more rhythmically than measured by their meaning. The scheme is [The rhythm of the first verse is set out in full.]”
“It is natural that this also leads to completely incorrect accents, such as ‘an die Brüsten der Natur, alle Menschen werden Brüder, etc.’ Finally, the use of the voice in this piece, in the solo as well as in the tutti, goes beyond all natural limits; and so, if we also include the Turkish orchestra, it seems as if nothing was left in the quantitative sense, while the master fell far short of the great character of the poem in the qualitative sense. The composer only comes close to the poet’s tone in one single place, namely in the words:
Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen.
Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt!
Such’ ihn über’m Sternenzelt!
Ueber Sternen muss er wohnen.
“I say tone intentionally, because on closer examination there is not much truth in this idea. On the other hand, “froh, wie seine Sonnen fliegen – freudig wie ein Held zum Siegen‘ is taken so lightly and cheerfully. And individual passages, such as the separation of the words, ‘Diesen Kuss der ganzen Welt,’ and earlier the frequent repetitions of the words, ‘vor Gott.’ Furthermore, a completely ridiculous entry of the bassoon, which begins with individual, repeated deep tones while the whole orchestra is silent (perhaps one could put the horns in their place to avoid this impression) creates such a disturbing effect that all the other art that is demonstrated in the canonical treatment of the voices at the beginning when the masses come together to figurate the theme and otherwise, cannot mitigate or even erase the impression of such blatant misbehavior.”
“Since after several rehearsals, as well as at a second performance in which the tempo of the last movement was moderated somewhat, and rightly so, the same result remained despite habituation, it cannot be disapproved of if, in a future performance of this work, the last movement is omitted, the Adagio is placed before the Scherzo, and it concludes with the latter. One might object that this would lose the intent of the composer, who at the beginning of the last movement brings together the themes of the previous ones, and now wants to combine them with the theme of the fourth. If only this would prove that that this was more than his merely artificial reflection, and that those themes actually stood in an inner and necessary sequences, an idea which I along with several other admirers of Beethoven’s muse have not been able to convince myself.” Third note: “The length of the individual movements and the unnecessary strain placed on the listener also recommend this measure. As for the rearrangement of the two middle movements, A. Kanne had already suggested it earlier (in the Wiener Musikzeitung). It seems to us, he says, almost a necessity for the troubled mind to let the gentle, songful Adagio—melting away in wistful rapture—follow the powerful Allegro, and to place the Scherzo later.”
“If someone tried to beat me with the authority of Beethoven’s works, I would see in it a petitio principii, which I would gladly pardon if it arose from the well-intentioned desire to place a great and revered man, who made an epoch in art, above the fate of humanity, to which the painter and composer in particular are all the more subject the more they are deprived of easy intercourse with the outside world, in whose forms they represent themselves as an artist, and which intercourse the imagination is not able to replace for him over a long period of time—and the more boldly they are accustomed to handling these forms.”
“I dare say, with the agreement of all the unprincipled who have heard this piece of music, that in it there is more artistic effort, in the earlier symphonies more nature, or in other words, that in the former the art of the composer united itself more with Nature, while in this, it seems to want more to stratify with Nature and subdue a resisting Nature by force.”
“And while I say this, I will leave aside certain details, such as the unbearable passage where the violins hold [a high A], while the sopranos sing [a high G-sharp] fortissimo, because this passage could easily look different in the score.”
The Ninth Symphony is here performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Riccardo Muti:
The first of a series of six biweekly concerts by the Royal Academy of Music is given in London today at the Hanover Square Rooms. The personnel included the greater part of the Philharmonic, augmented by pupils of the Academy. The concert opens with Beethoven’s Symphony Nr.2 in D major. The reviewer laments the lack of works by English composers on the program, but acknowledges, “The symphony of Beethoven was admirably performed…” The Harmonicon, April 1826, Nr.XL, at 85.