Loving Beethoven

The latest in The NY Times's series of "Five Minutes That Will Make You Fall in Love with [something]" arrived today, and it's dedicated to the obvious big boy of the year, Ludwig van Beethoven. As I remarked the other day on social media, I love most of his music; I just don't need him taking up 10% or more of concert time year after year after year. 

Also, if you want a fully-rounded view of his music, you need to take a look at the works without opus numbers: the large-scale (read: important) works have opus numbers, but there's a long list of pieces that didn't receive one; in fact, it's longer than the works with opus numbers. They are separately catalogued and include dance music for various combinations of instruments, miscellaneous pieces for combinations like mandolin and harpsichord, songs, folk song settings, random piano music, etc. You can see the list here.

Okay, having said that, the choices in the Times article were mildly surprising to me, or, anyway, aren't what I would have picked or would have pointed to in some of the works picked. In the inevitable Fifth Symphony, my favorite moments are the entire, gloriously beautiful, second movement, and the transitions from the scherzo to the last movement and back. Is there anything better than the ghost of the scherzo haunting the last movement?

But if I were picking a whole symphony to represent him - okay, okay, it's impossible, I know - I'd probably pick 1, 2, 4, or 8, which include emphatic demonstrations of Beethoven's sometimes-bumptious musical humor. I can't remember which of those was on an Oakland Symphony program that I reviewed years ago, but I was sitting there chortling to myself while every else in the audience was very serious. There's humor in the big symphonies as well; here I wave at the last movement of the Third. You should be giggling a little at the big serious opening and the slightly silly tune that follows, on which he will make variations.

While we're talking about transitions, the second movement of the Fifth Piano Concerto is very beautiful, and, again, the transition to the last movement is fabulous. And in the Fourth Symphony, you've got the enormous energy from the opening to the main body of the first movement. (Here's Carlos Kleiber and the Royal Concertgebouw in the Fourth Symphony, for example. He takes the first movement repeat, as well he should.)

I'm glad that someone pointed to the second (last) movement of Op. 111, the last of Beethoven's piano sonatas. It is touching, surprising, profound. Glenn Gould, though? I will listen, but of the many recorded performances I've heard, the most emotionally powerful, for both movements, is Stephen Kovacevich's, in his complete recording of the 32 sonatas.

If I were picking a bunch of the piano sonatas, I'd include the wonderful trio of Op. 31; Les Adieux; and all of the late sonatas (Op. 101, 106, 109, 110, 111), which are all special in their own ways. Pianists to consider: Peter Serkin's traversal of the late sonatas on a not-very-good fortepiano is musically spectacular; Kovacevich is profound, the French pianist Eric Heidsieck restrained and elegant. But there are tons of good to great performances of these!

For the string quartets, the Harp, Op. 74, and the first Rasumovsky, Op. 59, No. 1.

For operas, nothing. Fidelio has some great moments and some substantial dramatic problems.