BEETHOVEN 200 YEARS AGO TODAY: Saturday, February 28, 1824

In the late afternoon, possibly upon seeing a poster, Beethoven makes a note of living in the Hauptstrasse at the Brothers of Mercy, a monastery converted onto rentals, since the sunlight is bright enough on the first floor [second floor American] and everything is secure. He also notes that the household needs pepper.

The new issue of The Harmonicon for March, 1824, Nr.XV, contains at 33-35 a Memoir of Ferdinand Ries (1785-1838). The section relating to Beethoven follows: “At length, in the year 1801, he went to Munich with the same friend who had formerly taken him to Arnsberg. Here he was thrown upon his own resources; and throughout the trying and dispiriting circumstances which, with slight exception, attended the next years of his life, he appears to have displayed a firmness, an energy, and an independence of mind, the more honourable, perhaps, from the very early age at which they were called into action. At Munich, Mr. Ries was left by his friend, with little money, and but very slender prospects. He tried for some time to procure pupils, but was at last reduced to copy music at three-pence per sheet.”

“With this scanty pittance, he not only continued to keep himself free from embarrassments, but saved a few ducats to take him to Vienna, where he had hopes of patronage and advancement from Beethoven. This celebrated man had been, in early life, the intimate friend of Mr. Ries’s father; and the young man had (perhaps in consequence) made his works his chief and favourite study. He set out from Munich with only seven ducats, and reached Vienna before they were exhausted! His hopes from his father’s early friend were not disappointed; Beethoven received him with a cordial kindliness, alas! But too rare from men who have risen to eminence and distinction, towards those whose claim upon them is founded on the reminiscences of their humbler state. He at once took the young man under his immediate care and tuition; advanced him pecuniary loans, which his subsequent conduct converted to gifts; and allowed him to be the first to take the title of his pupil, and to appear in public as such.”

“At the arrival of Ries at Vienna, Beethoven was engaged in the composition of The Mount of Olives,–and as he was pressed for time, the first services rendered by his pupil were corrections of parts, &c., during the progress of this celebrated work. On the occasion of the young man’s first appearance in public, Beethoven gave him his celebrated concerto in C minor [op.37], which was then in manuscript. Mr. Ries asked him to compose a cadenza for him, but Beethoven desired him to do it himself, and said that he would correct it. This was accordingly done, and the great composer was much pleased with his pupil’s production,–with the exception of one difficult and ambitious passage, which he said was too dangerous to be attempted in public, by a pupil making his debut. But with the true philoprogenitiveness of all authors – whether their art be music, poetry, or painting,–the young aspirant could not be persuaded to give up a favourite passage, and did not alter it. A few days before he was to appear, Beethoven made him play over the cadenza,–and as he stumbled at the passage, again cautioned him not to attempt it, as he could not make sure of it. The young man’s pride was touched;–he went home, and practiced over and over this fateful passage, till he was persuaded he had mastered it completely. At length the day arrived. Ries began, and went on with success and applause—he reached the cadenza—he reached the passage. Beethoven stood at his side to turn over for him; nevertheless he could not prevail on himself to leave out what he considered his happiest and most effective effort. He plunged boldly into it, and succeeded perfectly. Beethoven was delighted, and let the audience see that he was so. He afterwards said to his pupil, that he was exceedingly gratified and pleased, but that if he had failed in that passage, he never would have given him another lesson.”

“But, with all his kindness, Beethoven would give him no instruction in thorough-bass or composition. He said it required a particular gift to explain them with clearness and precision,–and besides that Albrechtsberger was the acknowledged master of all composers. This latter had almost given up teaching, being very old, and was persuaded to take a new pupil only by the strong recommendation of Beethoven, and by the temptation of a ducat a lesson. Poor Ries’ ducats ran only to the number of twenty-eight; after this, he was driven to his books again. It is said that these lessons are all the instruction he ever had in the science of music,–a circumstance really wonderful, if we consider what he has since done. His musical memory, however, is reported to be of a remarkable description; it is said that before he went to Vienna, he could play by heart a great part of Sebastian Bach’s fugues, and of the works of Mozart and Beethoven. We have heard that, since, in his own compositions, he has often noted only the orchestral parts, leaving his own (the piano-forte) part almost blank, to the great puzzling of those who were to turn over.”

“Mr. Ries remained at Vienna till 1805, when he again came into contact with the French army, and had nearly remained so for some time, inasmuch as he was drawn for the conscription. Bonn, where is family resided, being under the French government, the sons were liable to this land-press, and Ferdinand Ries was one of the first drawn. He was, therefore, obliged to return home immediately, for his disobedience would have exposed his father and family to the risk of ruin.”

At page 47 of this issue of The Harmonicon, there is a short review of a number of volumes of short pieces, the first volume of which is called Terpsichore, choix des pieces les plus belles, et les plus estimées, par Rossini, Weber, Mozart, Beethoven, &c., et mises pour le Piano-Forte, par Czerny, Pixis, Leidersdorf, &c. Nos. 1 to 4. (Wessel & Stoddart, 1, Soho-square.) “The first of these collections contains only two pages in each number. The four numbers already published are, with the exception of a march from Rossini’s Elizabeth, filled by the most popular pieces in Weber’s Freyschütz. The price is fair, and the selections good.” Wessel & Stoddart will eventually publish the overture to The Ruins of Athens, op.113, in piano four hands arrangement, pirated from Steiner’s edition.