A propos … Beethoven
(published in German in: Schweizer Musikzeitung, September/Oktober 2019, p. 23)
It’s true that the end of the year is still a ways off, but I want to share my concerns already about what 2020 might bring. Next year will mark the 250th anniversary of Ludwig van Beethoven’s birth.
Beethoven’s music is already massively present in concert programs today. My fear is that next year this presence will increase even more. And that would not be the best way to honor his memory. Let’s put it this way: everyone loves chocolate cake, but you wouldn’t want to eat it every day. As we know from numerous historical anecdotes, composers are rarely keen on their own music. One has to ask whether Beethoven would have been willing to listen to his nine symphonies a hundred times. It’s questionable whether such “musical indulgences” are truly healthy. In my opinion, there are other ways to honor Beethoven—by, for example, following the musical tastes of his contemporaries.
A few examples make my point clear: Bach admired Dietrich Buxtehude, Johann Friedrich Fasch, and Jan Dismas Zelenka. Haydn appreciated Adalbert Gyrowetz. Mozart held Joseph Eybler, Johann Schobert, and Jiří Antonín Benda in high regard. Beethoven revered Luigi Cherubini—whose Requiem, in his view, surpassed Mozart’s—and had great esteem for Muzio Clementi. He considered Handel the greatest composer who ever lived. Rossini admired Simon Mayr. Berlioz, Verdi, and Liszt considered Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots a true masterpiece.
It’s interesting that concert programs rarely introduce us to the favorite composers of Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, or Rossini. Perhaps their taste wasn’t trusted if they followed composers we now consider second-rate? The so-called high judgment of posterity—ours—leaves me puzzled.
My suggestion: a serious appreciation of the masters of the past only becomes evident when we deepen our knowledge of their contemporaries. This opens up new ways to understand and appreciate the celebrant and his talent in historical context. An artist is never great in isolation; he becomes great through his relationship with his time and his response to the impulses of his environment.
Comparison and contrast are the foundation of every evaluation and often yield interesting surprises. In an article in The New Yorker, Alex Ross recently noted that, when you get to know Salieri better, you realize that Mozart was certainly better, but not infinitely better. In other words, the scale is roughly the same; we’re still in the “Champions League.” A good knowledge of Salieri helps us better appreciate certain aspects of Mozart’s talent that might otherwise escape us.
I don’t think it’s right to honor Ludwig van by playing his music even more intensely than it already is. That trivializes it. It reminds me of my grandparents, who would take out their lace doilies when guests arrived, but never dreamed of using them on the kitchen table every day. So, let’s turn to Beethoven and see him in context: we listen to the composers of the French Revolution (e.g., Gossec, Méhul, Lesueur, Cherubini) to understand where Beethoven’s “sound” comes from; we compare his eccentricity with that of his friend Antonin Reicha, who was even stranger. It wouldn’t hurt if concert organizers helped us get to know Ludwig van’s friend and rival, Johann Nepomuk Hummel, who played a major role in Vienna’s musical life at the time.
Another way to honor Beethoven would be to show the human side of his personality more openly,
restoring some of his character: not to sanctify him too much and to recognize that he—fortunately—wasn’t perfect. True love appreciates even the flaws of the other, and our Ludwig certainly had
his. In the Ninth Symphony and Fidelio, singers often regretted that Beethoven hadn’t made more of what he learned from Salieri’s teaching when recording the vocal parts. We should
also not forget what Jonathan Del Mar noted in his edition of the symphonies (Bärenreiter Urtext Edition, 1996–2000): almost all the bold and capricious passages in these compositions are the
result of trivial printing errors!
And if you really want to perform Beethoven in an “orgiastic” way, I suggest at least focusing on
the string quartets. Very few classical music enthusiasts know them well. These quartets—with which Beethoven elevated the “quartet” to the “seriousest” genre of serious music—have everything
needed to captivate people: they reject frivolity and display in art the extreme depths of aesthetics.
In short: with the upcoming Beethoven celebrations, will we really manage to appreciate the Bonn master more, or will we end up harming him with a flood of unnecessary performances, even with compositions Beethoven himself had let fade into oblivion? I hope for the best, but I prepare for the worst.