My growing admiration for the First Symphony has taken me by surprise because for many years I regarded it as a Haydenesque pastiche minus the thematic invention of the older master. This view of mine might have been planted in me by a certain book I bought back in the sixties when I first became interested in “classical” music. The author, Gervase Who – sorry, Gervase Hughes – had this to say:
“It is so pleasant to listen to …(and) it may be captious to point out that it would rarely have been played during the last 150 years had it been written by some talented but less well-known contemporary”.
I believed all I read in those days and I never heard the distinct background sound of an axe grinding. The same author described the late quartets thus: “ugly music remains ugly music no matter who puts his name to it.” I hope that, wherever he is now, he is subjected to the “Grosse Fuge” every morning.
Getting back to the much-maligned First, Beethoven had already displayed his mastery of melody and bold harmony in his sonatas and string quartets but it was generally felt that he had taken a step backwards with the symphony. When I first heard it, I had already encountered most of the other symphonies, and the material in this work seemed plain to the point of boredom. It took many years (speaking personally) before this little gem began to assert itself but, when I listen to it now, it just reinforces my view that, with Beethoven, you have to be patient. You have to clean out your harmonic palette (if that doesn’t sound pretentious) and try to listen with the squeaky-clean ears of the early classicists. (A lukewarm saline solution also helps.)
So, try to place yourself in the Burgtheater, Vienna, on the day after April Fool’s Day, in the over-symbolic year of 1800 and listen to that opening – as dramatic in its own way as that of the Fifth or the Eroica. Beethoven opens on the subdominant and then messes with your brain and doesn’t state C major until the allegro begins – twelve bars and you are already floundering. After all this, he can afford the plain material that follows because he has focused your mind on the harmonic architecture; this guy has a different agenda, folks. You are caught up in the momentum which is the essence of sonata form and nobody knew how better to generate it
I may as well admit that I am indulging in a bit of sophistry when I describe the themes as “plain”. They have the sense of inevitability and strength which will reveal itself long after the wish for a ravishing tune has gone. The trio of the third movement consists of one note repeated nine times on the woodwind with little wisps of accompaniment from the strings, and yet the effect is …….well, ravishing. The finale is exhilarating and towards the end of the exposition, there is a hint of the first movement of the C minor symphony.
I am not trying to say that, if Beethoven dropped dead after the premiere of his first symphony, he would still hold the high position he has today, but I would like to think that this work would still be played.
“It is so pleasant to listen to …(and) it may be captious to point out that it would rarely have been played during the last 150 years had it been written by some talented but less well-known contemporary”.
I believed all I read in those days and I never heard the distinct background sound of an axe grinding. The same author described the late quartets thus: “ugly music remains ugly music no matter who puts his name to it.” I hope that, wherever he is now, he is subjected to the “Grosse Fuge” every morning.
Getting back to the much-maligned First, Beethoven had already displayed his mastery of melody and bold harmony in his sonatas and string quartets but it was generally felt that he had taken a step backwards with the symphony. When I first heard it, I had already encountered most of the other symphonies, and the material in this work seemed plain to the point of boredom. It took many years (speaking personally) before this little gem began to assert itself but, when I listen to it now, it just reinforces my view that, with Beethoven, you have to be patient. You have to clean out your harmonic palette (if that doesn’t sound pretentious) and try to listen with the squeaky-clean ears of the early classicists. (A lukewarm saline solution also helps.)
So, try to place yourself in the Burgtheater, Vienna, on the day after April Fool’s Day, in the over-symbolic year of 1800 and listen to that opening – as dramatic in its own way as that of the Fifth or the Eroica. Beethoven opens on the subdominant and then messes with your brain and doesn’t state C major until the allegro begins – twelve bars and you are already floundering. After all this, he can afford the plain material that follows because he has focused your mind on the harmonic architecture; this guy has a different agenda, folks. You are caught up in the momentum which is the essence of sonata form and nobody knew how better to generate it
I may as well admit that I am indulging in a bit of sophistry when I describe the themes as “plain”. They have the sense of inevitability and strength which will reveal itself long after the wish for a ravishing tune has gone. The trio of the third movement consists of one note repeated nine times on the woodwind with little wisps of accompaniment from the strings, and yet the effect is …….well, ravishing. The finale is exhilarating and towards the end of the exposition, there is a hint of the first movement of the C minor symphony.
I am not trying to say that, if Beethoven dropped dead after the premiere of his first symphony, he would still hold the high position he has today, but I would like to think that this work would still be played.
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