Part 15

It has been said that the criterion wherewith to judge of all music whatsoever is this: "Technical exposition being considered equal, the quality and the power of the emotional matter set forth should turn the scale between any two pieces of music." Now Beethoven not only invented a new technical language; he invented the necessity of a race of players that should speak it. The pianist that interprets properly a composition of Beethoven must clothe his mechanism with intellectuality and virile, poetic spirit. It was held by Jacob Grimm that no definite thought can exist without words, and that in giving up the words instrumental music has become an abstraction, as all thought has been left behind. It seems, however, an error to limit thought or consciousness to words. There is a state of consciousness, without verbal thinking, in which we realize great moments of existence; and this state of consciousness has its clear and powerful language. Such a spiritual language is music, and its greatest poet is Beethoven. Even those works of Beethoven which have no title to indicate the practical plan of the author are expressions of particular emotions and conceptions that cannot be explained in words, yet convey a distinct impression to the consciousness of the hearer.

Not that he was the originator or the abettor of that which is now known as program music; for program music, whether the epithet be applied solely to that music which without words aims to portray or suggest to the hearer certain definite objects or events, or whether it be applied loosely to all characteristic or imitative music, is not a thing of modern invention. In a sacred ballet of the Greeks, which represented the fight of Apollo with the Python, the action was accompanied appropriately by flutes, lutes, and trumpets, and the grinding of the teeth of the wounded monster was imitated by the trumpet. In the part-songs of Jannequin and his contemporaries, battles, birds and hens were imitated in music. Buxtehude described in double counterpoint, "the peaceable and joyous ending of Simeon after the death of his son." The first movement of Dittersdorf's orchestral symphony "Actaeon" portrayed the chase; Diana took her bath in the second; in the minuet Actaeon played the part of "Peeping Tom"; and in the finale he is torn in pieces by the hounds for his indiscretion. To prove that there is nothing new under the sun, a wise man of his day, named Hermes, wrote analytical programs of the fifteen symphonies of Dittersdorf for the benefit of the hearer and for his own glory. But why multiply such instances familiar to the searchers after the curious in music?

Beethoven gave certain compositions a general name, as the pianoforte sonata Op. 81 _a_, known as "Das Lebewohl" (or "Les Adieux"); the overture to "Egmont"; the Pastoral Symphony. But these names were not supplied with a detailed program of words that the music might be identified properly and the right emotion recognized or subdivided. When he prefixed the following words to the Pastoral Symphony, "more expression of emotions than tone-painting," he at the same time made his confession of faith. Nevertheless the commentators, the successors of Hermes above mentioned, have seen in this same symphony a good citizen going with his family to spend Sunday in the country, or a pantheistic hymn of subtle nature; just as in the Seventh Symphony Wagner finds the apotheosis of the dance, another the joy of Germany delivered from the French yoke, while others see a festival in the days of chivalry, the reproduction of a brave meridional people, a village marriage, a procession in the catacombs, the love dream of a sensuous odalisque, a Bacchic feast, a battle of giants, or a vulgar orgy to serve as a temperance lecture. "But in the kingdom of hypothesis each one has a right to think freely, and even, alas, to speak his mind."

If a striking characteristic of the music of Beethoven is its individuality with accompanying infinite variety--as seen in the symphonies, the concertos, nearly all of the pianoforte sonatas, and the chamber music--a no less striking feature is its intense dramatic spirit. The reproach has been made against Beethoven that his genius was not dramatic, but surely reference was here made to the scenic conventionalities of opera. But if the dramatic in music lies in the development of passion, Beethoven was one of the greatest dramatic composers. To quote Henri Lavoix in his remarks on the Fifth Symphony: "Is this not the drama in its purity and its quintessence, where passion is no longer the particular attribute of a theatrical mask, but the expression of our own peculiar feeling?"

An important factor in the full expression of this dramatic intensity in his orchestral writing is the instrumentation. All the instruments are used with greater freedom and effect than ever before. In order to express his great musical ideas the instruments move in a wider compass with greater technical execution. In instrumental coloring, in variety of solo and chorus treatment, and in massive rhythmical effects, Beethoven advanced the art of orchestration to a point never before conceived, His effects, however, are not gained by the introduction of unusual instruments. With the exception of the Ninth Symphony and a few other instances, his orchestra is practically the one used by Mozart. In the Ninth Symphony, as in "the Battle of Vittoria," there is a liberal use of percussion instruments. Beethoven used the contra fagott and the basset horn on occasions; and he once indulged himself in the singular fancy of arranging his "Battle of Vittoria" for Maelzel's instrument, the Panharmonikon, a machine that brought in play all sorts of military instruments. But the instrumentation of his symphonies does not depend for its effects on unusual combinations; it is remarkable for the manner of the speech of well-known members of the orchestra. Take the strings for example. He knew full well the value of the _pizzicato_, and _tremolo_ as well as the power of the unison. Outside of the famous chamber music, the symphonies are filled with passages for the 'cello and double bass that are unusual for his time. In his treatment of the double bass, which in the C-minor Symphony was a stumbling block to Habeneck and his trained men, he was influenced by the skill of Dragonetti. In his use of the wood-wind he showed rare instinct and imagination. The oboe, for instance, is with him not a gay rustic pipe of acid character; it is positive, it is melancholy, it is tender and it soothes. In the famous solos of the first movement of the Fifth Symphony and the dungeon scene of Fidelio, the oboe utters heart-piercing accents of sorrow. What is more characteristic than the odd cluckings of the bassoons in the scherzo of the Fifth Symphony; the soulful clarinet solo in the allegretto of the Seventh, or the weird effect of the low notes of the horn in the _trio_ of the scherzo of the Seventh Symphony? Beethoven held the trombones in great reserve, but whenever he employed them the effect was impressive, as for instance in the _finale_ of the Fifth Symphony and the storm of the Pastoral Symphony. Two famous passages in his symphonies, passages that have provoked angry disputes, are made remarkable by a singular use of the horn in which the laws of tonality are set at nought. Beethoven was the first that knew the value of the kettle-drums. He first raised the drum to the dignity of a solo instrument, as in the Fourth, Fifth and Ninth Symphonies. His instrumental effects went hand in hand with the development of the melodic idea. The different tone-masses are used in conversation; or a solo instrument announces the return of the theme; or the whole orchestra rages violently and then stops suddenly to listen to a far off voice.

It would be impossible in an article of this brevity to speak of his manifold effects of instrumentation, or of the characteristics of his compositions in detail. Among his instrumental works are the 9 symphonies, overture and music to "Egmont," overture and music to "Prometheus," "The Battle of Vittoria," 9 overtures, 5 concertos for pianoforte and orchestra, 1 triple concerto, the Choral Fantasia, the violin concerto, 16 quartets for strings, 8 trios for pianoforte and strings, 10 sonatas for pianoforte and violin, 2 octets for wind, 1 septet for strings and wind, 1 quintet for pianoforte and wind, 5 sonatas for pianoforte and 'cello, 38 sonatas for pianoforte, and 21 sets of variations for pianoforte. The chief vocal works are "Fidelio," the two masses, the oratorio, "Christus am Oelberge," "Meerstille und glückliche Fahrt," the aria "Ah perfido!" and 66 songs with pianoforte accompaniment.

We have already considered briefly the various ways in which Beethoven expanded the structural elements of the sonata, and now it may not be amiss to examine for a moment the æsthetical characteristics of his pianoforte works in sonata form. In the early sonatas he began with the four movements which others had almost wholly reserved for the symphony. The scherzo in sonata and symphony was peculiarly his invention. To be sure the name is older, and was used in describing secular songs in the 16th century as well as for instrumental pieces in the 17th. But the peculiar quickly moving number with its piquant harmonies and rhythm and its mocking, grotesque or fantastically capricious spirit is the musical thought of Beethoven. At times the scherzo assumed gigantic proportions as in the Third, Fifth and Ninth Symphonies, and in the sonata Op. 106. Before his day the imagination of the composer had not had full play; it was more or less hampered by conventionalities, by the necessities of the men dependent on princes' favors. The expansion of a great idea in the sonata is found first in his works. Deep feeling, passionate longing took the place in the slow movement of simple melody with its unmeaning and elaborate ornamentation. He introduced the recitative with thrilling effect. Although the breadth of the thought in different movements is majestic even to awe, all phases of human feeling are expressed. Strength and delicacy, gloom and playfulness are found side by side. The sonata form with Beethoven was the means of the full development of all the expressive elements in music.

These considerations are likewise true of his piano and violin sonatas, trios and concertos, the most prominent of which are the so-called Kreutzer Sonata, for piano and violin, trio in B flat, violin concerto, and piano concertos in G and E flat. These famous works stand foremost in their respective branches, but to dwell on their individual characteristics would exceed the limits of this article.

In contrast with the later symphonies, the First and Second seem without the rare personality of the composer. Yet when the First Symphony appeared its opening was regarded as daring; and there is the seriousness of purpose that is found in all of his greater compositions. In the Second the introduction is built on broader foundations; there is a warmth in the slow movement that was unusual for the time, and the scherzo is new in character. But in the Heroic, Beethoven laid the cornerstone of modern symphonic music. It was written with a definite aim; the glorification of a great man. The instrumentation is noticeable in a historical sense on account of the treatment of the orchestra as a whole; the balance of the parts, the conversations, the antiphonal choirs. The Funeral March is the departure from the traditional slow movement that was generally devoted to prettiness or the display of genteel emotion. And in this symphony the scherzo is Shakesperian in spirit where melancholy or grimness is mingled with the jesting. It has been said that the last movement of the Haydn Symphony was designed to send the audience home in gay spirits; but with Beethoven the finale became the crown of the work. The finale of the Heroic is not as impressive as are the preceding movements; but it abounds in interesting detail, and was in its day a remarkable revelation. The Fourth is built on a lesser scale, and yet as Berlioz well said, the adagio defies analysis, "the movement that seems to have been sighed by the Archangel Michael when, a prey to melancholy, he contemplated from the threshold of heaven the worlds below him." In the Fifth Beethoven rid himself completely of the shackles of conventionality. It is the story in music of the composer's defiance of Fate, the battling of man with nature and unseen forces. Here trombones and contra fagott appeared for the first time in the history of the symphony. The Sixth is full of peace and serenity and joy in life that comes from the contemplation of Nature, and stands in strong contrast with the sublime struggle and exulting triumph of the Fifth. The Seventh is perhaps the most truly romantic and sensuously beautiful of all. Joy and sorrow, humor and wild passion alternate in its strongly contrasted movements. This great work, together with the three string quartets, Op. 59, are held by some musicians to be the highest manifestation of subjective feeling and ideal beauty that musical art has yet revealed. In conciseness of form the Eighth is almost a return to earlier conditions, but in concentrated power and joyousness it is one of the most remarkable and Beethovenish. He himself described it as a "little symphony in F." The substitution of the Ariel-like and humorous _allegretto_ in place of the slow movement, and the use of the _menuetto_ are eminently characteristic. The Choral Symphony stands alone in the history of music. It is said that the first three movements "have reference, more or less intelligible according to the organization and sympathies of the hearer, to the _finale_," which is a setting of Schiller's "Ode to Joy," or rather "Liberty," which was the original title of the poem. Here all "the dramatic and human elements which Beethoven introduced into his instrumental music to a degree before undreamed of" are brought together in complete expression. Moreover in the Ninth Symphony as in his great Mass in D there dwells the profound spirit of religious consciousness. The burden of the hymn heard above the symphonic struggle of the orchestra is joy, love and brotherhood for all mankind, or that charity which is the true essence of the Christian religion. Like Dante's Divine Comedy or Bach's Passion Music, the Ninth Symphony will live as one of the greatest monuments of genius.

[Illustration: BEETHOVEN'S MONUMENT IN BONN.

Executed by Prof. Hähnel. Unveiled in August, 1845. From a photograph made in 1880.]

The human voice was to Beethoven an orchestral instrument, and he too often treated it as such. This failing is seen particularly in the Mass in D, "Fidelio," and the Ninth Symphony. Yet he showed in the song-cycle, "To the Absent Loved-one," a knowledge of the art of Italian song and the principles of _bel canto_ that accompanied German taste and sentiment, as also in his most famous song "Adelaide." In his great choral works and in his opera he showed himself everywhere as the instrumental writer _par excellence_. "Fidelio" is undoubtedly a masterpiece. The text has been praised highly, but probably more on account of its noble subject than dramatic treatment; for the interest stops with the great dungeon-scene. As a drama it has the defects of operas in general of his time. Spoken dialogue and separate solo and concerted numbers naturally prevent dramatic unity and consistency of effect.

Undoubtedly the orchestra is the chief figure of the opera, dominating constantly the scene. This, however, is as true of Wagner as of Beethoven. "There is not an instrumental note that has not its passionate, dramatic meaning; there is not an instrument that is not a party to the drama." With the exception of the prisoners' chorus, the most impressive passages of "Fidelio" are those in which the orchestra is openly master: the overture No. III., the melodramas, the introduction to the air of _Florestan_. The overture No. III. is the whole story of the agony and the womanly devotion of Leonore in concise and tragic form; just as the overtures to "Egmont" and "Coriolanus" are the summing up of the tragedies of Goethe and Collin, although "Coriolanus" is undoubtedly derived directly from Plutarch and Shakespeare. The force and the meaning of the accompaniment is always in proportion with the degree of passion on the stage. When _Pizarro_ meditates his vengeance and the orchestra mimics the storm within his breast, it matters little that the voice of the singer is drowned. And so the air of the delirious _Florestan_ is less thrilling than the preceding prelude; and the oboe tells of his agony although he himself cries it to the dungeon walls.

There is little or no doubt that when Beethoven wrote his Ninth Symphony, he thought of Schiller's original conception, the ode to Freedom, and not the altered and present version, the ode to Joy. To Beethoven, freedom was the only joy; to him the universal freedom of loving humanity was true religion: the brotherhood of man. That the singers rebelled against the frightful difficulties of their task was nothing to him; he heard the voices of a triumphant world, and he was not to be confined by individual limitations. So in his mass in D, he thought not of the service of the Roman Catholic church: he arrayed the human against the supernatural. It is not church music so much as the direct, subjective expression of a religious heart, which cannot be restrained by the barriers of mere form and ritual. Some have argued seriously that because Beethoven was not punctilious in the observance of the rites of the Church he was therefore unfitted to celebrate in music her solemn service. Now whatever his religious opinions were, whether he was deist or pantheist, there is no doubt that he appreciated fully the dignity of his task and consecrated all his energies to the performance of it. He meditated it most carefully, as we know by his sketch-books. In 1818 he wrote a memorandum: "To compose true religious music, it is necessary to consult the olden chorals in use in monasteries"; and he added below: "Make once more the sacrifice of all the petty necessities of life for the glory of thy art. God before all!" In the manuscript is written over the _Kyrie_, "From the heart! May it go back to the heart!" and over the _Dona Nobis, "Dona nobis pacem_. Representing the inner and exterior peace."

It is idle to compare this Mass with the religious works of Palestrina and Bach and to say that if Beethoven had been a devout Catholic or an orthodox Lutheran his Mass would have been more thoroughly imbued with religious feeling. In the first place it is necessary to define the word "religious." Palestrina wrote in his peculiar style not because he was a devout Catholic, but because his religious individuality found expression in the methods of his time. Bach wrote his great Mass in a time when counterpoint ruled in the music of the church and of the dance. Beethoven was a man, not only of his time, but of the remaining years of this century.

Now in this mass Beethoven wherever he is most imposing, he is intensely dramatic, and when he follows tradition, he is least himself. Notice for instance the change from the passionate entreaty that is almost a defiance in the _Kyrie_ to the ineffable tenderness in the _Christe eleison_; the wonderful setting of the _Incarnatus_ and the _Crucifixus_. On the other hand, where Beethoven felt that it was his duty to follow the approved formulas, as in certain passages of the _Credo_ that relate to the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, etc., we realize fully the story of Schindler, who found the composer singing, shouting, stamping, and sweating at his work; for although he was a master of the _fugato_, the fugue was to him, apparently, not his natural mode of expression. But von Bülow's commentary should not be forgotten: "The fugue is with Beethoven the last and highest means of intensifying the expression of emotions."

Again, the religious element in the music of Beethoven is not confined to works which have a sacred text. The yearning after heavenly rest, the discontent with the petty vanities of life, sublime hope and humble thanksgiving,--these are not found exclusively in his works for the church or in such a movement as the _canzona in moda lidico_ in the A minor quartet Op. 132. The finale of the Ninth Symphony as well as movements in the sonatas, the chamber-music and the symphonies are religious music in the profoundest sense of the word.

And yet the great works of his last years have been decried and are not now accepted by many. He himself was discontented with many of his earlier compositions, and this self-depreciation does not seem the singular yet not uncommon affectation of genius. In a letter written to Ries in 1816 he declared that the death of his brother had impressed him profoundly and influenced not only his character but his works. For a time following he wrote but little; and then he pondered compositions of gigantic proportions. The pianoforte ceased to accommodate itself to his thoughts; the string quartet and the orchestra were constantly in his mind. "The most exalted, the most wondrous, the most inconceivable music," says Rubinstein, "was not written until after his total deafness. As the seer may be imagined blind, that is, blind to his surroundings, and seeing with the eyes of the soul, so the hearer may be imagined deaf to all his surroundings and hearing with the hearing of the soul." Deafness befriended him when it closed the doors of sense. It helped him to turn from outward things, and find peace and consolation in the ideal world of tones. The spiritual voices that he heard were the companions of his solitude. He thus vindicated the true spirituality of music. The deaf man justified its ancient, poetical significance. This inward life accounts for his early inclination for instrumental music. The highly developed forms gave wide range to his imagination, through the almost unlimited resources of the orchestra, in compass, technical execution, and tone-color.

While in his orchestral works Beethoven reveals all the tragic fire, and dramatic strength of his nature, it is in his string quartets that he is most spiritual and mystical. This is due, first, to the nature of the four combined instruments, so pure and ethereal in their tone effects.