Daily Beethoven — Sparks of Joy

Beethoven: Sparks of Joy — Opus 110 well-known, presents a gamut of settings, much like a great drama.

Opus 110 is the most popular of Beethoven’s late sonatas. The opening is lyrical and warm, and is followed by an exuberant Scherzo, whose themes were borrowed from two folk tunes – “Unsa Kätz häd Katzln ghab” (Our cat has had kittens) and “Ich bin lüderlich, du bist lüderlich” (I’m a dissolute slob, and so are you). The specific force of the allusions may not be felt, but their boisterous, comic character is clear.
However, it is the extraordinary third movement that dominates discussion of this sonata. Its principal elements are an Arioso dolente  (lamenting song) and a three-voice fugue, which unexpectedly loses heart and gives way to a second Arioso even more despairing than the first. Suddenly, the fugue is repeated, but this time the theme is turned upside-down, and it ends on a note of triumph with a flourish of arpeggios.
Seong-Jin Cho was just 17 years old when he performed this sonata at the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven: Sparks of Joy — Op. 109 is the predecessor to the Hammerklavier.

The Opus 109 sonata is a much smaller work than its immediate predecessor, the “Hammerklavier”. It has a fantasy-like first movement followed by a quick prestissimo, and the whole is capped with a marvelous theme and variations, which Beethoven instructed was to be played “song-like, with the most intimate expression.” Here Daniel Barenboim performs. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven: Sparks of Joy — Op. 106, “Hammerklavier,” enfolds soul-wrenching drive with those unknown last moments of a Mars landing.

The Opus 106 “Hammerklavier”, Beethoven’s 29th sonata, is one of the most demanding works in the entire keyboard repertoire. Magnificent in scope, enormous in length, it contains a soul-wrenching Adagio movement and ends with an incredible double fugue. One might compare the finale to NASA’s “seven minutes of terror” as the Mars spacecraft makes its final descent and landing on the Red Planet!
Beethoven remarked to his publisher Artaria that this sonata would be “a hard nut to crack”, and that it would have pianists gnashing their teeth for the next 50 years. In fact, Beethoven’s London publisher released only the first three movements (rearranged so that the Scherzo followed the Adagio) because it was felt that England had no pianists at the time capable of playing the finale.
Although Beethoven had already used the term “Hammerklavier” for the Opus 106, it has become universally accepted as the name for this immortal work. Here is a superb performance by Vladimir Ashkenazy. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven: Sparks of Joy – Op. 101 begins his “late period” sonatas.

The Opus 101 is generally regarded as the first of the “late period” sonatas, in which Beethoven takes advantage of the expanded range  and sturdier construction of the “Hammerklavier” to produce works of extraordinary power and richness of effect. In fact, in the Opus 101 Beethoven uses the low “E” for the first time – a note that didn’t exist on earlier instruments.
This is emphatically not a “Romantic” work. The Romantic movement was unleashed after the Congress of Vienna in order to supplant artistic rigor and replace it with “anything goes” licentiousness, in order to corrupt the musical tastes, and hence morality, of the public. Beethoven was  always a Classical composer.
The sonata, which Beethoven jokingly suggested be called “the difficult-to-play A major sonata” is performed magnificently by Emil Gilels. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven’s sonata Op. 90 follows Napoleon’s defeat.

Five years would lapse before another piano sonata appeared since Napoleon’s storming of Vienna. During these years, Beethoven composed his Mass in C, and organized a successful revival of his opera, now called “Fidelio”.
The Opus 90 sonata was composed following the defeat of Napoleon and during the preparations for the 1815 Congress of Vienna – the conference of royals and their functionaries which restored the feudal system over war-ravaged Europe, unleashed the Romantic movement, and ruthlessly suppressed all efforts to replicate the new American model of government in Europe. 
The sonata has two movements, and is played here with great passion by the Israeli pianist Boris Giltburg. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven’s rebuke of Napoleonic forces; a sonata for Archduke Rudolph.

Napoleon’s forces approached Vienna in April of 1809, forcing the nobility to flee to their country estates, and Beethoven to shelter in his brother’s cellar, with pillows strapped over his ears to preserve what little hearing he still had. 
The departure of his friend and patron, the Archduke Rudolph, was the occasion for Beethoven’s next piano sonata, “Das Lebewohl” (The Farewell), Opus 81a. In the first movement (“Das Abschied” – The Parting) he writes the syllables “Le-be-wohl’ over the opening theme, which he returns to throughout. The second movement, called “Abwesenheit” (Absence), is a poignant depiction of longing, and  leads directly to the third movement, “Das Wiedersehen” (The Return), in which Beethoven celebrates the anticipated homecoming of his patron with unbounded joy and exuberance. 
It is important to note that from this point on Beethoven abandoned the use of both the French and Italian languages in his compositions, instead giving all tempo and other instructions in German, and he was furious when his publisher gave this sonata the name Les Adieux.
András Schiff gives an outstanding interpretation of this marvelous work. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven’s “Cuckoo” sonatina.

One might suspect that the Opus 79 sonatina was actually composed much earlier than its publication date of 1809, but Beethoven’s sketchbooks show that it is a contemporary of such works as the Emperor Concerto and the Harp Quartet. This miniature sonata is also known as the “Cuckoo” for the repeated chirping motive in the first movement, which is followed by a plaintive barcarolle and a lively finale. It’s beautifully interpreted here by the Polish pianist Marta Czech. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]

Beethoven’s “Shakespeare” sonata, “I scorn to change my state with kings;” the great Appassionata.

Opus 57 – the “Appassionata” – one of the greatest works of Beethoven’s so-called “heroic” period, provides the backdrop for the following account: 
In the late autumn of 1806, as Beethoven was putting the finishing touches to this sonata, his patron Prince Lichnowski ordered him to perform for officers of the occupying French Army. Beethoven refused, departed in the middle of a furious storm, and later wrote to Lichnowski, “Prince! What you are, you are by circumstance and birth. What I am, I am through myself. Of princes there have and will be thousands. Of Beethovens there is only one!” The manuscript for the Appassionata bears the stains from that rainstorm.
This performance by Murray Perahia is the best I’ve heard. [Notes by Margaret Scialdone.]