Ravinia 2019, Issue 5, Week 9

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770–1827) Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, op. 55 (“Eroica”) Scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, timpani, and strings Symphony No. 3 confronts human themes as vast as the music itself—ideological betrayal and heroic triumph. Popular legend records the composer’s violent reaction upon receiving word of Napoleon’s coronation. Ferdinand Ries bore the shocking news: “I was the first to bring him the intelligence that Bonaparte had proclaimed himself emperor, whereupon he flew into a rage and cried out, ‘Is he then, too, nothing more than an ordinary human being? Now he, too, will trample on all the rights of man and indulge only his ambition. He will exalt himself above all others, become a tyrant!’ Beethoven went to the table, took hold of the title page by the top, tore it in two and threw it on the floor. The title page was rewritten and only then did the symphony receive the title ‘Sinfonia eroica.’ ” This anecdote leaves one crucial question unanswered: What exactly did Beethoven write on the original title page that he ripped from the score? Conclusive evidence of a Napoleon dedication exists not in this copy score but on the compos- er’s autograph manuscript. Its title page contains numerous emendations, but the most signif- icant resides in a poorly erased line near the top that apparently once read “Intitulata Bona- parte”—“Entitled Bonaparte.” This had been re- placed by the words “Sinfonia Grande.” Another line, added at a later date, clearly suggests that the symphony was “Written for Bonaparte.” Truth be told, Beethoven had vacillated over the title and dedication for some time prior to the Napoleon crisis. With its publication in 1806, he dedicated the score to his patron Prince Franz Joseph von Lobkowitz and formalized the title “Sinfonia eroica” with a postscript, “composed to celebrate the memory of a great man”—Na- poleon the champion of the people, not his des- potic reincarnation. Beethoven composed Symphony No. 3 during the summer of 1803, a period of growing profes- sional ambition and personal catharsis. Plans for a musical conquest of France had reached their final stages. His attraction to things Gallic ex- tended far beyond political sympathies with the goals of the Revolution: France offered a musical public interested in highly dramatic expression, which suited his own extroverted personality. Emblematic of his French inclinations, Beetho- ven signed every score of this period “Louis van Beethoven.” Later, when rumors of his depar- ture for the French court circulated throughout Austria, a handful of wealthy aristocrats offered a substantial annual salary to keep Beethoven in Vienna. These months also witnessed his spiritual recov- ery after the previous year’s crisis, when recogni- tion of his irreversible deafness poured onto the pages of the so-called Heiligenstadt Testament. Beethoven lamented the cruel loss of his hear- ing: “Such experiences almost made me despair, and I was on the point of putting an end to my life—the only thing that held me back was my art. For indeed it seemed to me impossible to leave this world before I had produced all the works that I felt the urge to compose; and thus I have dragged on this miserable existence.” De- spite this seeming resolve, Beethoven rambled on later in the letter about his coming demise: “Joyfully I go to meet Death.” This confusing turnabout might represent the symbolic enact- ment of his own artistic death. Thusly the sym- phony “composed to celebrate the memory of a great man” assumes deeper significance—Bee- thoven’s own heroic resurrection. This triumphant symphonic essay unfurls with unprecedented breadth. The Allegro con brio announces a new musical universe with two crashing chords. Cellos introduce the heroic main theme in E-flat major, whose essence is more harmonic than melodic. Rhythmic dislo- cation first appears in the transition, but Beetho- ven employs it more forcefully in later sections. Contrasting “themes” appear as composites of melodic fragments, rather than long sweeping lines. This motivic property allows spacious expansion in the development. The infamous “premature” horn entry anticipates the recapit- ulation by four measures. Beethoven affixes an enormous coda onto this movement to offset his sizeable development section. The funeral march in C minor progresses with a solemn gait, accompanied by the ominous rat-a- ta-tat rhythm. Whether this represents the death of the hero, as frequently stated, seems a periph- eral concern in Beethoven’s enlarged symphonic scheme. This somber monument provides an emotional foil and counterbalance to the colos- sal opening movement. A true scherzo in E-flat major follows, with all the rhythmic energy Beethoven typical- ly brought to the form. Horns interject a hunting-like trio theme, and then the scherzo returns with renewed vigor. The Finale begins with a tumultuous outburst, modestly antici- pating the Ninth Symphony. Strings pluck out a simple harmonic pattern, later joined by a theme from the composer’s own Creatures of Prometheus music. Beethoven builds a glorious series of variations, often combined with fugal textures. The coda provides a conclusive mo- ment of triumph and jubilation. JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833–97) Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, op. 83 Scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, timpani, strings, and solo piano Twenty years separate the completion of Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, op. 15, (1854–58) and the initial sketches of his Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, op. 83, (1878–81). Naturally, Brahms matured both as a man and musician in the intervening period. The piano concertos offer a musical parallel to his personal evolution. Brahms even christened his two musical progeny the “youth” and the “grown man.” Maturation, however, produced neither lethargy nor conservatism in Brahms. His Second Piano Concerto exudes a vivacious charm in greater measure than the youthful First. Brahms began the Second Piano Concerto during the spring of 1878 and worked on it spo- radically for the next three years. Finally, in 1881, the piece achieved its glorious four-movement form in the summer heat of Pressbaum. With tongue in cheek, Brahms announced to Elisa- beth von Herzogenberg his “ever so tiny piano concerto with an ever so tiny and dainty scher- zo.” But the musical manuscript told another story. Brahms created arguably the most monu- mental piano concerto of the 19th century. Ded- icating the score to Eduard Marxsen (1806–87), he acknowledged the benevolent guidance of his teacher in Hamburg. Ludwig van Beethoven by Christian Horneman (1803) Johannes Brahms (ca. 1885) JULY 29 – AUGUST 4, 2019 | RAVINIA MAGAZINE 101