The Omniscient Mussel

Piano Sonata No. 31 in A flat major, Op. 110
Moderato cantabile molto espressivo
Allegro molto
Adagio ma non troppo
Fuga: Allegro ma non troppo

On paper, Op 110 is a traditional four-movement sonata. In reality however the work is a further example of the dissolution of sonata form within the outer movements as well as any sense of the usual order of the movements themselves. The cantabile theme of the first movement is more reminiscent of a Haydn string quartet adagio than a Beethoven sonata opening. The melody is unadorned in the right hand and accompanied by repeated chords in the bass. With the expected sonata form abandoned, the next six minutes are taken up with a sort of meandering through the movement with periodic restatement of the opening theme. Secondary themes are short and mostly motivic and the development section is practically non-existent. After a decorated version of opening theme appears, the movement ends with a quiet cadence.

Although less than three minutes long, the third movement is a fully formed scherzo and trio. The extreme dynamics and uneasy accents are almost comical. Especially amusing is the ending, where a string of fortissimo chords end with a pianissimo resolution of the final cadence.

A contemplative recitative beings the final movement of Op 110, further illustrating Beethoven’s preoccupation with song during this period. The basic structure is arioso, fugue, arioso, fugue with the opening recit soon transformed into the single line melody of the first arioso. Simple, repeated chords in the bass create a transparent texture. The fugue theme is stated quietly at first and increases in volume and intensity as the other two voices make their entrances. Its sturdy, no-nonsense feel is in stark contrast to the delicate beauty of the arioso. This time, beauty wins and the fugue fades back to arioso before reaching any sort of climax. Insistent G major chords begin the second fugue, the subject of which is the first fugue theme upside down. Beethoven really goes to town here and uses diminution—cutting the note values in half and half again—to increase intensity and bring the movement to an unexpectedly joyful close.

(c) XKCD (click to enlarge)(it’s worth it)

Sonata in E flat major Op 81a ‘Les Adieux’ (1810/11)
Das Lebewohl: Adagio - Allegro
Das Abwesenheit: Andante espressivo
Das Wiedersehen: Vivacissimamente

In the 11 years between Op 10 and Op 81a, much had changed both for Beethoven personally and in Europe politically. Beethoven had become a household name throughout Europe for his music, the impact of which was compounded by his near complete deafness and unpredictable behaviour. Since Op 10, he had written 6 symphonies, 5 piano concerti, 9 violin sonatas, the Violin Concerto, the Triple Concerto, 18 piano sonatas and 9 string quartets, all of which have become standard repertoire in their respective genres.

Beethoven wasn’t the only one who had arrived however. An Italian megalomaniac called Napoléon had been terrorising much of Europe since the turn of the century. When the French Revolution first started Beethoven was enamoured, as most students are, with the ideas of liberty, fraternity and equality. He was often frustrated by the customs and rules of the aristocracy that provided his support and found in Napoleon an embodiment of the triumph he wished for himself.

Beethoven’s admiration for the French general was withdrawn abruptly in 1803, when Napoleon had a spot of amnesia regarding the republican ideals of the French Revolution and declared himself First Consul for Life. This imperial gesture was too much for Beethoven and upon hearing the news he tore the dedication out of his Third Symphony manuscript.

The lives of the two revolutionaries intersected again in 1809 when Napoleon was advancing with his troops to Vienna. The majority of the Viennese aristocracy sensed trouble afoot and fled the city. Beethoven’s good friend and patron Archduke Rudolf left with his entire family, leaving Beethoven without any friends in the city. Op 81a depicts the Archduke’s departure, Beethoven’s feelings about his absence and the Archduke’s return to Vienna. It is Beethoven’s only concretely programmatic work and it is dedicated to its subject.

Beethoven was unable to escape Napoleon’s influence even after the General left Vienna. When the sonata was being printed, the publisher insisted on using French titles with Italian tempo markings rather than the German that Beethoven had insisted on. Naturally this decision disgusted him and he dismissed the French and Italian as being Napoleonic, an adjective that he would have used as a superlative eight years previously. In later sonatas, he made sure to avoid using the offending languages, titling them für Hammerklavier rather than pianoforte and using German tempo markings.

The first movement, entitled Das Lebewohl, was written in May 1809 when the Archduke left Vienna with his entourage. It is reported that he spent the duration of the siege holed up in his brother’s cellar with a pillow over his head to protect what little remained of his hearing. The published dedication reads, “On the departure of his Imperial Highness, for the Archduke Rudolph in admiration.” Private notes in the sketches indicated that the movement was “from the heart.” The opening, descending motive is a distant horn call, a device used by composers before and after Beethoven to indicate a farewell. In the score, he makes his intentions perfectly clear by writing the word Le-be-wohl over these three notes.

The second and third movements were written in January of 1810 after the Archduke and the rest of the court returned to Vienna. Das Abwesenheit expresses Beethoven’s feeling loss during the Archduke’s absence. It is improvisatory in nature and one can easily imagine Beethoven at the piano working out the loneliness he felt during that time. The second theme is slightly more optimistic than the first and although this movement isn’t his most tragic, Beethoven does manage to convey a strong sense of pathos. The extended chain of false cadences immediately preceding the third movement are brilliantly tense. The harmonic unrest deliciously amplifies the euphoria of the maniac third movement opening.

Das Wiedersehen is in strict sonata form but in many ways it resembles a caprice. It is short on melody but there are plenty of fireworks, with the pace only lessening slightly during the second theme. Beethoven even marks the tempo a rather silly vivacissimamente. The coda starts out calmly and it appears as though Beethoven has finally managed to get his excitement under control. It is not too long however, before the seams burst and the piece comes to a dazzling end.

Piano Sonata in F minor Op 57 “Appassionata”
Allegro assai
Andante con moto
Allegro ma non troppo

The difference in style between the three early sonatas and Appassionata is marked. In the intervening 12 years, Beethoven had written 20 piano sonatas, two cello sonatas, nine violin sonatas, three piano concerti, the first six string quartets, the Triple Concerto and the first three symphonies. None of these works, except perhaps the Third Symphony have inspired so much comment as Appassionata.

English composer Hubert Parry wrote of the sonata, “Here the human soul asked mighty questions of its God and had its reply.” Vladimir Lenin once said, “I know nothing that is greater than the Appassionata; I would like to listen to it every day. It is marvellous superhuman music. I always think with pride - perhaps it is naïve of me - what marvellous things humans can do.”

It is indeed one of Beethoven’s most violent and passionate works and it has been said that Appassionata is the sonata he loved over all the others. The piece was written during the summer of 1804 while Beethoven was holidaying in Baden outside of Vienna. By this point he was nearly deaf and had been sent to the country by his doctor to recover from treatments.

As with the Pastoral symphony, the theme for the final movement came to him as he was walking outside in the country. Upon returning home, he rushed to the piano before even removing his hat and spent an hour furiously writing the music down. The work was not published until 1807, with the nickname Appassionata given by the publisher. Somewhat unusually for Beethoven, he approved of this action and was not upset with the publisher for taking liberties.

The most unusual aspect of the first movement is the omission of the repeated exposition. This is the first time Beethoven does this and signals his rejection of tradition classical sonata form. It is as if he has too much to say to be bothered with repeating himself again. The coda is long and improvisatory, with arpeggios spanning nearly the entire length of the piano available to him at the time. This lengthy writing in the coda would be extended even further in the Fifth Symphony where the V-I cadences seem to go on forever.

The slow movement is a set of theme and variations that are mostly given over to harmonic progression rather than straight melody. Somehow Beethoven manages to make something beautiful out of a harmony exercise and the result is simply stunning. The end of the Andante is interrupted by a pair of diminished seventh chords heralding the beginning the third movement. Once again, Beethoven gets creative in the coda and introduces an entirely new theme. In the final bars, the piece comes crashing down on itself and ends with a short but defiant final cadence.

• James Levine, 65, will be starting the 2008/09 season minus a kidney and the cyst that has been causing “pressure and discomfort”.. The six week recovery means Levine will have to miss the Elliot Carter 100th birthday celebrations at Tanglewood, something he was, “looking forward to more than I could say.” [AP | Boston Globe]
• “I’m disappointed that I had the greatest, most adrenaline-fueled on-the-job joy of my life when I was 22 and a college senior. It’s hard to look back on that high point eight years ago and accept that it will only recede further away from the present reality.” Marc Geelhoed beautifully captures what it’s like to be confined to the sidelines.
• “Criticism is a lonely job, and in the final analysis, either you’re a gang of one or you’re nothing at all.” Film critic Kenneth Turan on why critics can never be wrong.
• Turns out the Met opera simulcasts aren’t a sign of the Apocalypse after all.