Beeethoven, Arrau and the Moonlight Sonata

Ludwig van Beethoven settled down in Vienna in 1793, at a privileged moment. That was, at least, the feeling of some of his contemporaries. Mozart had just left his throne when dying two years earlier in the same city at thirty-five. Therefore, as soon as Count Waldstein learned of Beethoven's trip to Vienna, he sent a letter to young Ludwig, aged 23, suggesting him to study with Haydn, still alive, so that he "inherited the spirit of Mozart."

But Beethoven was not willing to inherit anyone's spirit. Moreover, with both personalities in antipodes, Haydn's teaching could not work. The same was true with other teachers. The exception was Antonio Salieri, alleged poisoner of the one whose spirit was desirable to inherit. Beethoven studied with the Italian teacher until 1802; subsequently, he was always willing to make use of his advice.

In 1801, being still a disciple of Salieri, maestro Beethoven was already a personality in Vienna and lived according to the comforts of a bourgeois home, thanks to his own effort and also to the patronage of some friends: Prince Lichnowsky, to whom he would dedicate the Pathetic sonata, "has sent me a commission of 600 florins," he said in a letter that year.

But his health was fragile. In the same letter, he noted that "my sense of hearing has progressively weakened." Later he confesses to being living a hermit's life: "for almost two years I have tried to avoid all company, simply because I cannot tell people that I am deaf."

Anyway, 1801 was the year he wrote the sonata that, from then to the present time, has obtained the greatest favour from the public: the Sonata No 14, Op 27 No 2, popularly known as the Moonlight Sonata.

Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2: "Sonata quasi una fantasia”
The complete sonata is presented here, its three movements, in the rendition by the maestro Claudio Arrau (born in Chillán, Chile, in 1903 and passed away in Austria, in 1991, when he was on his way to give a recital in an Austrian city). The video is a little gem, as noted by a good number of comments on YouTube. The most enthusiastic exhorts young teachers to observe and understand, listening to Arrau, "the true meaning of the art of playing the piano."

Movements:
00:00  Adagio sostenuto
06:54  Allegretto
09:22  Presto agitato

Chopin, Étude Op 25 No 1

The second set of Études composed by Frédérick Chopin, the Opus 25, is dedicated to Countess Marie d'Agoult, companion of Franz Liszt for those years. The Hungarian composer had already received the dedication of Opus 10, whose "exercises" (as Chopin called them) he would play in an exceptional way. So, Frédéric assumed that he would do well by dedicating this "second part" of the exercises to his friend's lover, although Marie was not a pianist. But she did sing. She used to write, as well, but not romantic stories. Under the pseudonym "Daniel Stern", Marie is the author of an essay entitled History of the Revolution of 1848, which, it is said, Karl Marx held in high esteem, to the point of becoming an invaluable source to carry out his own essay on class struggle in France.

The Études of Opus 25 were composed in Paris, during the years 1834-1836, and published in 1837. Those years are pleasant for Frédérick. Having arrived in Paris in 1831, after a couple of years he has made friends among musicians: Liszt, Berlioz, Mendelssohn and many others. And despite living only from his lessons with a little more than was fair (he was a prodigal being in gifts and loans to compatriots in distress), he is the fashion man in Paris...

One day he has lunch with the ambassador of England, another with the baron of Rothschild. Of course, it's a must to attend well dressed, as elegantly as possible. A Polish friend, in a letter to Chopin's parents, says: "Chopin is in good health and vigorous, turning the heads of all the French women, and arousing the envy of the men. He is currently in fashion, and soon the world will see gloves à la Chopin."

Étude Opus 25 No. 1
This Étude, in A-flat major, demands from the performer's hands a great lightness, especially if both hands must play arpeggios embracing a large section of the keyboard. Added to this is a great ability to give the upper singing a perfect legato despite the use of a single finger, which at times must move, fast, at a great distance.

Robert Schumann, who heard the Étude played by Chopin himself, said:
"... this study is more a poem than a study. ...Would be wrong who believed that Chopin made each small note clearly heard ... through harmonies, the wonderful melody was perceived in long notes. Halfway through, alongside this song, a tenor voice emerges from the wave of chords ... ".

The rendition is by Daniel Barenboim. The tenor voice that Schumann discovers "halfway through" is heard here around minute 0:40.

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Adolphe Adam, Giselle - Act II

At the rearguard of the great musical geniuses of the 19th century, a group of musicians of lesser depth was modestly gravitating. They are the so-called "minor composers". The French composer Adolphe Adam was one of them. The son of a pianist who had acquired a certain reputation, he did not highlight much during his time at the Conservatory in Paris, where he entered at age 21. Nevertheless, since he was twenty he was recognized in Paris as a skilled composer of songs for the French vaudeville.

As an author of 48 operas and 15 ballets, Adam bequeathed to humanity the famous, eternal and beautiful ballet Giselle, released in 1843. It is the only production of his vast work that is performed until today on the stages of every corner of the globe, with each more diverse and innovative staging. In 1993, on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of its premiere, Giselle was staged in Havana by the National Ballet of Cuba, under the direction of the very prominent Cuban dancer and choreographer Alicia Alonso. In a box from which a divine light emerged, Fidel and Raul were seen tasting the function, with similar delight to that of the European aristocracy and high bourgeoisie of the mid-19th century. The magic of music.

Adolphe Adam (1803 - 1856)

The work is a ballet in two acts, based on a legend collected by the German poet Heinrich Heine. The story takes place in the medieval Rhineland. At the end of act I, Giselle, the protagonist villager, has already gone mad and then died, pierced by the sword following the deceit of her beloved Prince Albrecht.

In the second act, Giselle is welcomed by the queen of the dead virgins – together with her cohort of female ghosts, the Wilis – with a dance. Giselle joins them. Afterwards, Prince Albrecht appears, repentant, to mourn over his grave. The queen of the dead virgins rejects him but Giselle is there to protect him and save Albrecht's life, condemned by the queen to dance for life. Giselle holds him until the dawn lights force the ghosts to retreat. Then Giselle returns to her grave.

The celebrated Grand Pas de Deux and Variations of act II is presented here, with the Ukrainian ballerina Svetlana Zakharova playing the role of Giselle.
I apologize for the end of the video, something sloppy in the cut.

One last word about Adolphe Adam. From nowhere else but from his modest creative inspiration is that this miraculous wonder that Adolphe gave to the world arose. Aware of his moderate worth, Adam – according to Wikipedia – did not hesitate to say in a French newspaper in January 1855:
"I have no more ambition, in my music (...) than to make it clear, easy to understand and fun for the public. I can not do anything other than small music, it is a fact. Hence, I am content to do what I can, what I know, and I hope the audience gets tired of me to stop writing."
This blog subscribes his words, one by one.

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Schubert's death - Impromptu Op 90-4

Shortly after finishing the composition of the Impromptus, in late 1827, Franz Schubert's health worsened. In search of relief for his lungs, in the summer of 1828, he moved to the home of his brother Ferdinand, on the outskirts of Vienna.
His health was already very resentful, however, he was encouraged to make plans for the future and decided to perfect his musical knowledge by taking classes of harmony and composition with a famous teacher, in order to learn the technique of the fugue and counterpoint. He could only attend one class, that of November 4.

In those days, he contracted typhus. His doctor, very clever by the way, forbade him to eat (the medicine of the time killed many artists with the same method). He got even worse.
In his last days, he received almost no visits, for fear of contagion, and was accompanied only by his brother Fernando. His friends learned of his death during a friend's wedding celebration.

According to his wishes, little Franz was buried near Beethoven, in the Währing Cemetery. In 1888, the city of Vienna moved the remains of both musicians to the Central Cemetery, in what has been dubbed the "Pantheon of musicians."

With a feeling of regret for the loss of masterpieces caused by his early death, Franz's epitaph reads:

"The art of music has here interred
a precious treasure,
but yet far fairer hopes" 

"Here rests Franz Schubert
born on January 31, 1797
died on November 19, 1828
at the age of 31"

Impromptu N ° 4 Opus 90
The last of impromptus of Opus 90 is an Allegretto in A-flat minor/major, with an A-B-A form. At the start, we can hear a cascading sixteenth notes arpeggios. Later, Schubert inserts a delightfully swinging melody into the upper voice of the left hand. Section B is more lyrical, at 2:20.

The rendition is by the South Korean pianist, Dong-Min Lim.

Schubert: Impromptus Op 90 (2 - 3)

Franz Schubert composed eight impromptus in 1827, but only two of them were published in the composer's lifetime: the first two of Opus 90. The remaining and the four of Opus 142 only saw the public light in 1857, thirty years after its composition. The Impromptu No. 2 of Opus 90, which we are now listening to, is part, together with No. 1, of that pair of impromptus that Schubert was able to see published.

It has been wanted to see in it a study, or the germ, of those that will come later from the hand of Chopin and Liszt (at the time, 17 and 16 years, respectively). The laborious task entrusted to the right hand supports this proposal. A very careful while lively articulation becomes essential to make this almost endless series of triplets in tempo allegro sound perfectly clear.

The rendition is by Grigory Sokolov.

Despite his frail health, Schubert's last year of life was prodigal in compositions, but this was not reflected in an improvement in his economic situation, mainly due to the stinginess of his editors. Even in 1821, when Franz's name already appeared in the newspapers and his "light" works were heard in the salons of the high aristocracy, the publishers were reluctant to publish his work. And to show something, when a group of Schubert's friends addressed to the editor Peters, in Leipzig, requesting him to publish certain pieces of Franz, he responded by pointing out:

"My effort goes to the already established artists, with whom I can earn more money ... the mission of revealing new talents is for another. The day the composer has made a name and his works are recognized, I will be the man who seek, because in this case, the publication of his works will come into my plans."
Nothing new under the sun.

The Impromptu 90-3 is undoubtedly the most beautiful in the series, as well as the most cherished by the audience and also by the pianists, because of its tender and serene singing, commissioned to the right hand that makes a "self-accompanying" with broken arpeggios in permanent mute so as not to turn off the melody. The left hand makes "trills" in the bass, when Franz deemed them necessary.

The rendition is by the Russian pianist Olga Jegunova.

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