Ludwig Van Beethoven

Ludwig van Beethoven was born into a Europe embroiled in the questions of revolution and the rights of "sovereign" rulers. The full brunt of the American Revolution was only a few years away, and the French Revolution was fomenting into a political upheaval which would eventually deeply affect the youthful composer. We can be thankful, perhaps, that this was the backdrop for his formative years in Bonn, Germany. Without the egalitarian feeling in the air at the relatively enlightened Court of Maximillian Franz (the brother of the Emperor Joseph) Beethoven might never have turned into the great questioner of stodgy classical ideals that he did.

The exact date of his birth is not certain, although his baptism occurred on December 17, 1770, and the customs of the Rhine region at that time dictated that a child should be baptised within a day of birth. Thus, December 16 is generally accepted as his birthday. He was the first healthy child born to his parents, the first son (also named Ludwig) having died shortly after birth. His father Johann van Beethoven was a musician of some accomplishment, having been given the position of tenor in the Elector Franz's choir. Unfortunately for Johann and his family, he also inherited a strong tendency toward alcoholism and there are many reports of drunken abuse upon his sons, especially Ludwig, the oldest son who he tried to pass off as the next child-prodigy in the style of Mozart.

But Beethoven was no Mozart - even as a young child he could not easily be goaded into being a "trained-monkey" kind of performer: an attitude which was to have enormous consequences later not only for Beethoven, but for all artists in history yet unborn. The beginnings of Ludwig's musical education were therefore unhappy inasmuch as they were stringently based on his father's ideas of what a genius should be, and what society's expectations of a musician were in the late 18th century.

Ludwig's mother, born Maria Magdalena Kewerich, was for him a source of inspiration as a woman who accepted her unhappy marriage and numerous deaths of her other children with stoicism and gentle tact. It is reported, however, that nobody ever saw her smile. Her death of tuberculosis when Ludwig was sixteen was a severe blow to the young man, especially upon seeing his father immediately selling her clothes on the street to buy himself alcohol. Furthermore, Ludwig's first hired teacher was an old organist by the name of Pfeiffer, whose main connection to the family was in being Johann's drinking partner. The two would sometimes come home late at night from the tavern and force the young Ludwig to the piano, beating him on the ears as his sleep-deprived mistakes upset them.

The life which the young composer found outside his home, then, was both a sanctuary and a vital influence in his personality and creativity. At thirteen he had already come to the attention of the Elector's Court as a fine organist and almost immediately was given a position which paid nearly as much as his father's. By thirteen Ludwig's income was already a primary means of support for the entire family, and often he was emotionally the real "father" for his younger brothers - a role which he was never to relinquish completely.

Supported by the Prince, Beethoven visited the musical capital of Vienna at seventeen, and had occasion to play for Mozart. After Beethoven improvised brilliantly at the piano on a theme Mozart had given him (containing a trick "hidden" secondary theme, which Beethoven immediately noticed and pounced upon in his improvisation), the 30 year-old Mozart ran excitedly into the next room and prophetically told his friends, "Watch that fellow - someday he'll really make a name for himself!"

Although his abrupt return to Bonn was unhappily prompted by the death of his mother, Beethoven had now secured two pupils in a well-to-do family. Stephan and Eleonore Von Breuning were financially lucrative pupils to have, but more importantly, they both became life-long friends of the young composer, and he was immediately accepted into the Von Breuning home as virtually a family member. Mrs. Von Breuning took it upon herself to introduce him to literature and cultured society, smoothing out the rougher edges of his personality.

In 1792 Beethoven arrived in Vienna, never to return his home town, at the age of twenty-two. His father died in Bonn soon after, leaving Ludwig under somewhat more pressure to make a financial success of himself, what with his younger brothers still at home and not nearly as motivated toward success.

He was small, thin, pockmarked and homely. His clothing and hair were unkempt and his face morose-looking. Still, Ludwig was armed with several letters of introduction from Count von Waldstein and the Elector Franz, an assertive personality -- and his genius. The talent which first struck the Viennese public was his amazing ability to improvise upon musical themes. The compositions from this time are not altogether remarkable and it was, ironically, his skill as a performer which found him his first recognition.

The future was to hold a far different story.

Franz Joseph Haydn was the most famous living composer, and it was arranged that Beethoven should receive "the spirit of Mozart from his hands." It is in Haydn's honour that records show he charged Beethoven extremely little money for lessons- and fairly understandable that after a short time, the illustrious and extremely busy older composer found his new pupil to be unbearably impatient and resistant to established ideas about music. Thus, Haydn put some distance between them, forcing Beethoven to seek training elsewhere. In a moment of defiance Beethoven was to remark that Haydn had "never taught him anything."

An analysis of his early music, however, betrays a strong influence of Haydn, and Beethoven was to dedicate his brilliant first three Piano Sonatas to his aged one-time teacher.

Among his other teachers were the (then renowned) theorist Johann Albrechtsberger, and Antonio Salieri, best known today for his reported antagonistic relationship with Mozart. There is in Beethoven's early output much which hearkens back to these teachers, and indeed to Mozart himself. There are, in fact, some convincingly close quotations of Mozart: the opening theme of Beethoven's first Piano Sonata is strikingly similar to the theme from the finale of Mozart's famous Symphony no. 40.

The early piano sonatas of Beethoven deserve special mention, however. Although his first published examples of concertos and trios and the first two symphonies are beneath the masterpieces of Mozart and Haydn in these same genres, the sonatas bear an unmistakably Beethovian stamp: grandiose in scope and length, and innovative in their range of expression. These ideas were to bring the piano to a higher level of physical development-the range of tones they were able to produce, the loudness of the strings, and the durability of the construction were all to improve with the influence of the new demands made by Beethoven's piano music.

Already, with the three piano sonatas grouped together as Opus 10, Beethoven reaches a solid and recognisable style. The first of these, the Soanta in C minor, is especially noteworthy in that it contains the "C-minor mood" which was to be seen in some of the most famous later works, such as the Pathetique Piano Sonata and the Fifth Symphony.

To explain this "mood" is to sum up the personal character of the man himself: often sullen, tempestuous and desperate, yet given to fits of unmitigated humour and playfulness. Able, in short, to be moved from a terrible rage to peals of laughter to deep depression so suddenly as to alienate even his closest friends.

Capturing this unpredictable style in his music - a new freedom of expression which broke the bounds of Classical ideals - was to position Beethoven as a disturbed man in the minds of some of his contemporaries, and as the father of Romanticism and single most important innovator of music in the minds of those after him.

It would be misleading to paint a portrait of Beethoven as an artist completely misunderstood in his own time, however. He achieved a loyal following of admirers, and enjoyed financial success for a good portion of his life. For the most part, the difficulties in his life can be attributed to his own psychology and behaviour.

Many stories exist of Beethoven exhibiting erratic and even antisocial behavior, even in his relatively mild younger years. One such story has him getting into an argument with a waiter at a restaurant, which climaxed in Beethoven flinging a hot plate of goulash at the waiter. Typical, also, was his uncontrollable laughter at this waiter who could not continue the argument because he was too busy licking the sauce which covered his face. Another infamous event is recounted by his close friend, Ferdinand Ries:

"Beethoven could not be induced to play the piano after Daniel Steibelt had impressed the crowd with some showy playing of his own. At a concert the next week, Steibelt had one of his quintets played. He then played an improvisation in an insulting manner on a theme which Beethoven had written. This incensed Beethoven and his friends. It was now Beethoven's turn to go to the piano to improvise. He lunged at the piano, grabbing the cello part of Steibelt's quintet on the way, and, placing it (intentionally?) upside down on the piano, began to bang out a silly theme from whatever he first laid eyes on. He then improvised in such a brilliant way, that Steibelt stormed out of the room and refused ever to meet him again"

Perhaps the very greatest of his trials came in the form of his encroaching deafness. Although Beethoven first had an indication that something was wrong with his hearing as early as 1792, he could not bring himself to admit the fact for several years. It was not until he had enjoyed great success with such brilliant works as the First and Second Symphonies and the Piano Concerto No. 3 that his handicap became too strong to deny. In a touching document nicknamed the "Heiligenstadt Testament," Beethoven writes, to his brothers, a note that is partly a will and partly a suicide note:

"Oh, you fellow men who think of me, or even denounce me as being morose, mean, or misanthropic, how much you wrong me! Since you do not know the secret cause of what makes me seem that way.... I could not bring myself to say to people 'Speak louder, shout, because I am deaf.' How could I bring myself to admit to a weakness in the one sense which should be more perfect in me than in anyone else?... I must live as if in exile; if I venture into the company of others a burning fear overcomes me, that my condition might be discovered.... a little more and I would have ended my life...only my art has held me back.... do not forget me in my death - I deserve your remembrance because all my life I thought of you and your happiness...may you be so!"

Notably, although the document is obviously addressed to his two brothers, Karl and Johann, Johann's name is replaced with a blank- probably because he was at this time, like so many other times, being a nuisance and a heartache to Ludwig. At any rate, the gloom of this letter was merely a passing mood. The completion of the Second symphony, one of his most humorous and exuberant works, came at nearly the same time. The only influence which deafness brings upon the Second Symphony which one does not hear in the First Symphony is a greater originality.

Although increasing deafness had no effect on Beethoven's creativity or output, his association with the outside world did begin to suffer. His attempts at conducting and public performances on the piano became increasingly chaotic. At one mammoth 1803 concert, which included the Third Piano Concerto and the First and Second Symphonies, among other works, Beethoven began the rehearsals early in the morning on the very same day as the concert. Furthermore, he performed the piano solo part of the Piano Concerto only from memory and a few hastily scribbled notes. Although the concert was relatively successful financially, the critics had few kind words for the music, especially the Second Symphony.

One critic likened it to "a repulsive monster, a wounded dragon, throwing its unwieldy body about, and lashing wildly with its tail as it stiffens in its death agony."

Inasmuch as the year 1802 was a year of personal crisis for Beethoven, The year 1803, which witnessed the creation of his Third Symphony ("Eroica"), was a year of rebounding creative strength for the composer, and indeed, a pivotal year in the history of music. The primary concept Beethoven had in mind in writing the Third Symphony was that of the triumph of heroism as it was embodied in Napoleon Bonaparte. Beethoven's admiration of the French general had its basis in the perceived order which he was able to restore after the ravages of the French Revolution.

Napoleon represented heroism in the most tangible way: charismatic, young (barely one year older than Beethoven) and apparently devoted to the idea of common liberty. This admiration was short-lived, as Napoleon eventually confirmed his imperial aspirations by crowning himself Emperor, and continued on with a series of conquering battles which attacked the same noble ideals Beethoven -and virtually everyone else- had at first ascribed to him. So acute was Beethoven's disgust that he scratched the dedication and title from the symphony and rededicated it "to the memory of a great man."

In retrospect, it is a fortunate thing that Beethoven was thus able to separate the tangible concept of "heroism" as it existed in Napoleon, from the purer and more abstract ideas which permeate this symphony. The theme is still heroism, but transformed into a fantasy which ultimately can be identified as a deeply personal and perhaps autobiographical expression by Beethoven. At the most basic level, the symphony is one massive set of variations on simple themes, but the fullness of the orchestration, the intense use of dissonance and syncopation, and the extreme ranges of tone, volume and rhythmic variance carry the listener through a drama of monumental proportions. So different is the "Eroica" from any music before it, that it is often considered the single work which ushered in the Romantic era in music.

Indeed, up until the late 1840's the Third Symphony was banned at the Prague Conservatory as being Beethoven's most "morally corrupting" work.

What then is the essential difference between Romanticism and Classicism? In short, Classicism seeks to maintain a stability in art, as if to use art to establish a benchmark for expression and communication. Romanticism takes the attitude that every expression is open to interpretation, and thus attempts to venture beyond the boundaries of established rules and uses art to expand the ability to communicate ideas and feelings. The Romanticist of the early 18th century, spurned on by the political revolutions taking place, sought to replace form with emotion: to banish the "rules" of art in favour of content dictated solely by the personal emotions of the artist.

Beethoven fits neatly between these two modes of creative thought: his music has an undeniably personal emotional content, while still acknowledging and developing the same musical forms used by Mozart and Haydn, and even Baroque composers such as Bach and Handel. Thus, Beethoven used the whole palette of musical resources handed down to him, and distilled them into highly structured works which nonetheless appealed so greatly to the free Romantic spirit that his music began what is better called a cult of "Beethovenism" than Romanticism. The greatest composers of the middle and late 19th century, such as Richard Wagner, Franz Liszt and Johannes Brahms all drew direct inspiration from level of expression established by Beethoven.

Against the backdrop of deafness and revolution, the first years of the 19th century find Beethoven putting out some of his very greatest works-the other great period to be his final period, in which the composer took an inward turn and created works of such astonishing newness, that they sound "modern" even to this day. This earlier period is often referred to as the "Heroic" period, not merely because of the character of the Third Symphony, but also the immense power of such works as the "Waldstein" and "Appassionata" Piano Sonatas. Even in the deep gloom of the "Appassionata" the heroism is still present via the struggle and determination, however tragic the ending.

Similarly, his "Coriolan" overture for orchestra (1807) displays this tragic drama of heroism, but more explicitly since the work is based upon a play by H.J. von Collin, in which the hero finally chooses to accept his fate of death by embracing it through suicide.

No other creative work is so closely identified with life's fate and the acceptance and conquering of it than the Fifth Symphony of Beethoven. As a personal expression of the composer, it is clearly a reference to his will to live in the face of his deafness. As an abstract piece of music, it is one of the shining examples of perfect structure concealing an eloquent dramatic cadence inexpressible in words.

The entire conception of the symphony is more unified than any of his other compositions, with the familiar struggle-to-victory theme stretched across four movements, the last two movements linked without a pause to highlight this continuance of theme. Audiences were somewhat taken aback by the raw power of this symphony like no other work before. Taken aback as they were, the criticisms of this symphony were generally very favourable to the extent that they acknowledged the furious emotions which overtook any listener. It is no accident that this symphony has become the most famous orchestral work of any composer in history.

The well-known opening "three short and one long" motive has spun off an endless array of associations and anecdotes, including the one given (half in jest) by Beethoven himself: "Thus fate knocks at the door!"

Fate for Beethoven was not merely the deafness which plagued him. The gradual degradation of his sociability led to a deep seated loneliness. Although he managed to retain several lifelong and loyal friends, the ultimate goal for the composer, as felt so deeply in much of his music, was to forge a true-love relationship. As witnessed by his boyhood friend Wegeler, Beethoven "rarely would admit to being in love, but the fact is that he was rarely out of love. "Part of Beethoven's inability to find a mate can be attributed to his habit of falling for women who were either too young or already married.

Deaf, often ill, eccentric and unattractive, he nonetheless made a few conquests, but which usually turned out more painful than comforting. The famous letter to the "Immortal Beloved," some as yet unidentified woman, was found in his desk only after his death. The tone of the letter, too devotional and obsessive for its own good, underscores the problem of his emotional intensity: "...I have decided to wander far away until I can fly to your arms and say that with you I have found my true home, can send my soul, enwrapped in you, into the realm of spirits."

Once again, Beethoven's loss is our gain, in that his greatest works were written in the midst of some psychological mechanism of compensating for his unattainable ideal love- supreme beauty was transferred from his emotional urges and fixations into his musical creative process.

Composition for Beethoven was usually a lengthy and exacting process. Hundreds of pages of music sketchbooks still exist in which his compositional methods can be traced. Germs of different ideas were sketched as they occurred to him, and often he gathered ideas in this way for several works at the same time. Once a single work began to take form from the various sketches, he turned his attentions to that work exclusively, creating a firmly structured piece, dense with ideas.

By this method, individual works took on strongly unique characteristics, as the ideas sifted around and found their proper place: and so it is not surprising to find that the stormy and frightening Fifth Symphony was composed at virtually the same time as the Sixth Symphony - perhaps the most completely peaceful and emotionally content major work of the composer. This principle of dual composition points to the contradictions in Beethoven's personality, and his music is a glaring reflection of this character trait-prompting Franz Liszt to say "When [Beethoven] is silent he must speak; when he is sad he must laugh."

Often he would jot ideas down during a walk though the woods around Vienna, while singing and humming to himself. In his deafness, this singing was usually more akin to screaming and shouting, which on one occasion caused him to frighten a team of oxen, bringing the wrath of a farmer upon him. He sometimes paid rent on more than one apartment, moving often and occasionally becoming confused himself as to where he actually lived. Constantly engrossed in thought, he once found himself utterly lost in a remote village outside Vienna. As dusk descended and rain began falling he prowled around house windows looking for help, which soon caused the local police to arrive and arrest him as a vagrant. "But I am Beethoven!" he protested.

"Beethoven doesn't look like that - you're just an old bum" was the dry response from the police. Finally it required the mayor of the town to come and identify the famous composer, who was sent in a special coach back to his home, with deep apologies.

His close connection with nature and love of the outdoors had been the inspiration for many of Beethoven's works, but the Sixth Symphony ("Pastoral") is such a homage to nature that it was the most explicitly programmatic work of music yet composed.

Here, for example, Beethoven gives the listener a written description of each movement ("Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arrival in the countryside," "The Thunderstorm", etc.), and imbues the entire work with a simple - often deliberately comic-rustic quality.

The rustic sounds of Hungarian and Gypsy music were frequently to be heard in and around Beethoven's Vienna, and the composer took a strong liking to what most other "cultured" musicians would have considered music of rather low taste. Luckily, Beethoven knew how to effectively incorporate the vigour of Hungarian dance rhythms and the charm of folk melodies from as far away as Russia and Scotland into forms more palatable for polite Viennese society.

Not surprisingly, it is this folksy simplicity which brought Beethoven much of his popularity and still does. The "Rasumovsky" series of quartets (Opus 59, Nos. 1, 2 and 3), so named because of their commission by the Russian ambassador to Austria of that name, auspiciously include several well-known Russian folk tunes, and even more themes invented by Beethoven himself in a "Russian" style. Stylistically, these quartets are not in the least constrained by this attention to cultural flavour. As is often the case with all of Beethoven's quartets, they contain such a remarkable wealth of ideas and power, that they are closer to being symphonies.

This wealth of ideas did not prevent them from being scoffed at initially, however: the odd, monotone opening of the slow movement of the first Rasumovsky quartet prompted an entire audience to burst out laughing, whereupon the cellist threw the manuscript on the floor and angrily stomped on it.

An important result of Beethoven's independent and rebellious character is a legacy of the "free artist" that he left not only for composers, but for artists in all genres. Even the great composers before Beethoven, such as Mozart, Haydn and J.S. Bach, always worked under the direct patronage of royalty or the church. As a result, much of these composers' output was dictated by duty to a specific person, or to fill a quota of production.

One can imagine that all too often this resulted in the composer's hands being tied, and their creative spirit being forced into a particular mould. It is to their great honour that these composers nonetheless made great strides in the advancement of music, and undoubtedly created magnificent masterpieces. For Beethoven, however, the creative process was always far too personal to be dictated by someone else. While it is certainly true that he accepted many commissions and was often financially supported by a royal patron, it is rare to find in any of Beethoven's work an attempt to "force" a composition. Almost all of his compositions were rigorously, and often slowly, created in an environment of deep self-absorption.

This method of working forced Beethoven to accept many patronages strictly under his own conditions- usually meaning great freedom to pursue only those compositions which he himself wanted to write. Furthermore, in his deafness and inability to perform on the piano, Beethoven eventually supported himself primarily on the income from the publication of his compositions, and not through patronage or performing. Thus, he stands as the first truly independent creative artist to win such immense popularity.

By 1810, Beethoven had completed one of the most fertile decades of creation ever enjoyed by any artist, and had experienced his height of fame and happiness.

In these years he gave the world, among other works, six symphonies, fifteen piano sonatas, ten quartets, five concertos an opera, a ballet and a mass. The years 1810-20 were to be a completely different time for the composer. The only productive year in this span was to be 1812, which saw the composition of the Seventh and Eighth Symphonies.

This mysterious dry period can be partially explained by several events. The first was the outright rejection of a serious written proposal of marriage to Therese Malfatti, the niece of his physician, and only fifteen years old.

That an unkempt, bizarre, and near invalid thirty-nine year old would assume such a proposal to be accepted -- despite his fame -- lends credence to the opinion that Beethoven was at this point in his life both desperate for stable affection and mildly disassociated from certain social realities. At this decisive rejection, Beethoven reached a pivotal point where it must have become clear that the price for his musical success in the face of deafness was that of a life immersed in solitude. As he wrote to his friend Wegeler, "Oh, life is so lovely, but mine is poisoned forever."

The year 1814 saw Beethoven's final public performance at the piano. Deafness and lack of practice had taken their toll on his performing ability, especially when faced with an ensemble performance, as he undertook in the two concerts featuring his "Archduke" Trio. Ludwig Spohr, a fellow composer present at these final concerts, recounted that "in loud portions the poor deaf man pounded so hard on the keys that the strings jangled, and in quiet portions he played so softly that entire groups of notes were omitted." His attempts at conducting had fared little better. At one point during a rehearsal, it became more and more obvious that he was simply no longer capable of leading an orchestra, even in his own compositions. The orchestra members suddenly rebelled against him, and refused to play another note.

Confused, he turned to his friend Ferdinand Ries, who scribbled on a pad "Please, let's leave now." Beethoven understood at once. Arriving home, he collapsed on the couch and buried his face for hours. "It was the one blow," Ries writes, "from which he seemed never to recover."

In truth, the third difficulty was to have the furthest reaching effects on the composer. The story of Beethoven and his nephew is one of the saddest and strangest of any artist's life. It began in 1815 with the death of Ludwig's brother Karl from tuberculosis. He had left behind a wife, Therese, and a nine-year old son, also named Karl. In a last minute addition to his will, Karl had given joint custody of the boy to Ludwig and to the widow.

Beethoven had always had a very deep, exaggerated hatred for Karl's wife, whom he nicknamed the "Queen of the Night" for her supposedly loose morals. Moreover, his latent paternal instincts forced him into an even more exaggerated love for the nephew Karl, half-insanely claiming "I am truly the bodily father of my late brother's child." Eventually he was so compelled as to file in court for full custody of the child, in effect snatching the child away from his own mother. Beethoven suffered the embarrassment of having the venue of the trial moved out of the Nobility court and into the Common court when it was discovered that the Flemish "van" in his name was not equal to the German "von" and thus did not signify noble birth.

One story holds that when questioned about the origins of his supposed nobility, the flustered composer sadly pointed to his head and heart, claiming "My nobility comes from here and from here."

Public sentiment was somewhat against Beethoven as well, but it was finally judged that he be given full custody of the child. It must not have helped the mother's case that she became pregnant during these very proceedings. It is even more obnoxious to consider that the eccentric old composer could possibly make any better a guardian. His attempts at making a peaceful and loving home for his nephew were, like his attempts at winning a wife, far too eagerly carried out to the point of being clumsy and distasteful.

As Karl became older, tormented by the pressures upon him to excel in music and goaded to rebellious behaviour by the smothering affections of his uncle, he began to stay away for days at a time. Eventually, the teenaged Karl was compelled by the tense circumstances to shoot himself in the head.

It was against this general backdrop that Beethoven eventually came into the final creative period of his life. The works which were to come from his pen after 1820 up until his death seven years later were nearly all masterpieces. The popular and financial success of the Seventh Symphony had given the composer time to contend with his life's difficulties, and to store and ferment ideas which were now to pour forth.

Among these are some of the most awe-inspiring works of music ever written, including the final five quartets, the final three piano sonatas, the Missa Solemnis, and the Ninth Symphony.

The Ninth Symphony serves as a good reflection of the inner state of Beethoven's mind at this troublesome time. The entire first movement is comprised of music which tries, in vain, to make sense of itself. Themes attempt to forge themselves into pleasing melodies, and rhythmic chaos presides. The famous opening of the Scherzo movement, with the loud kettledrum announcement, is one of the most furious, energetic and dark of all Beethoven's music.

The slow movement comes as an abrupt attempt at reconciliation and the tenderness, most wrenching of emotions plead to supersede the chaos. The fourth movement is a lengthy piece unto itself, and introduces the human voice into the genre of the symphony for the very first time. The text, from Schiller's poem "Ode to Joy," is an anguished plea for happiness and brotherhood, with an intense spiritual dimension. Much of the same spiritual energy of the Ninth Symphony is to be found in the Missa Solemnis, or "Ceremonial Mass," a work still virtually unsurpassed in difficulty in performance and magnitude of emotion.

The compositions of this period are all works which focus deep within the composer himself, and look far into the future of music itself. Some of the quartets and the Missa Solemnis were not to find understanding audiences for decades, but are recognised today as the pinnacle of Beethoven's genius. The final movement for the Quartet in B-flat, composed only the year before the composer's death, was originally intended to be a huge, complex form called a fugue, in which all the instruments work in separate, often contrary directions. An old form in music, it was best explored by Johan Sebastian Bach in the early 18th century. Beethoven's version of the fugue was brilliant, if beguiling to his contemporaries:

"When the instruments have to struggle with monstrous difficulties...when each has different figures which cut across each other...amid a host of dissonances...when the Babylonian confusion is complete, the result is a concert which only Moroccans can enjoy." Even Beethoven capitulated in this case and replaced this troublesome portion with a more conventional finale - the final piece of music he completed.

His nephew Karl eventually made a full recovery from his merely half-hearted attempt at suicide, and Beethoven decided wisely to allow him to do as he pleased, which was to become a soldier. In part because of the success of the Ninth Symphony, Beethoven was surrounded by admirers at the time of his death from advanced pneumonia.

He had since reconciled himself with many old friends, and continued to work on sketches for a Tenth Symphony. His health steadily declined, however, due in part to incompetent physicians. As he lay on his death bed, his last words were about a present of wine which had been sent from one of his publishers: "Pity...pity...too late," whereupon he fell into unconsciousness. Late on the afternoon of March 26, 1827, a flash of lightening and a loud clap of thunder briefly stirred Beethoven from his coma. He rose himself in bed, eyes wide and defiant, and shook a tightened fist toward the sky- he remained in this position for several seconds before falling back dead.

Ironically, the only two present at the actual time of death were a minor acquaintance named Huttenbrenner, and his old enemy and sister-in-law Therese - his friends had gone out to secure a suitable grave site. Over 20,000 Viennese followed Beethoven's casket to the cemetery.

Title Arranger/Composer
9th Symphony Ludwig Van Beethoven
Fidelo Ludwig Van Beethoven
Fur Elise Ludwig Van Beethoven
Moonlight Sonata Ludwig Van Beethoven
Pathetique Sonata Ludwig Van Beethoven
Piano Concerto No. 5 Ludwig Van Beethoven
Symphony No. 3 Ludwig Van Beethoven
Symphony No. 5 Ludwig Van Beethoven
Symphony No. 6 "Pastorale" Ludwig Van Beethoven
Symphony No. 6 3rd Movement Ludwig Van Beethoven
Symphony No. 9 (Choral) Ludwig Van Beethoven


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