Heavenly Soundscapes: The Church Sonatas of Mozart

by Georg Predota, Interlude

Mozart‘s birth was nothing short of miraculous, a moment that would go on to change the world of music forever. Born on 27 January 1756 in the heart of Salzburg, Austria, he arrived into a family already steeped in musical tradition. His father, Leopold, a composer and violinist, immediately recognised his son’s prodigious talent, and before long, young Wolfgang Amadeus was dazzling everyone around him with his unparalleled musical genius. From the very start, it was clear that Mozart wasn’t just a child prodigy; he was a once-in-a-lifetime musical force destined to push the boundaries of classical music to new heights.

Portrait of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart at the age of 13 in Verona, 1770

As we celebrate Mozart’s birthday on 27 January, we decided to showcase masterpieces of a very special kind. And I am talking about his church sonatas, sometimes also known as the “Epistle Sonatas.” Mozart wrote 17 of these short works, musical gems of concentration on the small form. As the composer himself said, “you need a special kind of training for this kind of composition.” 

Forgotten Gems

Don’t feel bad if you are not familiar with these charming miniatures. These works were part of the religious service at the cathedral in Salzburg, written for a very specific function. Today, they no longer have that particular function in the liturgy of the Catholic mass, and they certainly have no fixed place in the concert repertoire. The church sonatas by Mozart have led a life in the shadow; it’s high time to bring them into the light! 

Official Church Musician

Salzburg Cathedral

The church sonatas date from a time when Mozart served at the court in Salzburg in an official capacity for 10 years. Initially he was hired as an unsalaried “concert master “on 27 October 1769, but was officially on the payroll in this particular position from August 1772 to August 1777. He was then promoted to “cathedral and court organist,” with a salary of 450 guilders in January 1779. This position would be terminated by the famous “swift kick to the backside” in May 1781.

Archbishop Colloredo

Archbishop Hieronymus Colloredo

Mozart had a famously turbulent relationship with his boss, Archbishop Hieronymus Colloredo. Colloredo was in charge for much of the 1770s and early 1780s, but their dynamic was strained from the start. Mozart, known for his independent spirit and desire for creative freedom, was at odds with the archbishop, who was more interested in maintaining control and adhering to formalities. The tension escalated as Mozart resented the rigid, often patronising treatment he received, especially when Colloredo limited his opportunities to compose freely and perform outside Salzburg.

Liturgical Function

Mozart’s Church Sonata No. 7 in F Major, K. 224 music score excerpt

So, what was the specific liturgical function of Mozart’s church sonatas? We get the answer from a Mozart letter to Padre Martini from September 1776. Mozart wrote in Italian, “our church music is very different from that of Italy, since a mass with the whole Kyrie, the Gloria, the Credo, the Epistle Sonata, the Offertory or Motet, the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei, even the most solemn one, may not last more than a maximum of three-quarters of an hour when the Prince attends it; and yet it must be a mass with all instruments, war trumpets and timpani.”

Epistle Sonata

From Mozart’s letter, we learn about the position of the “Epistle Sonata” in the liturgy, but it’s still not straightforward. One scholar wrote the following explanatory footnote to Mozart’s letter. “While the priest reads the Epistle, the organist played softly a sonata with or without violin accompaniment.” We do know that this type of musical composition probably originated in northern Italian churches in the 17th century and subsequently made their way into Austria.

Solemn Occasion

I can’t believe that Archbishop Colloredo would have tolerated any kind of music to interrupt the reading of the Epistle. It is much more likely that these short instrumental works sounded between the reading of the Epistle and the Gospel as the priest solemnly walked from the southern part of the church to the Nave.

Musician Placement

Now that we know when the Epistle Sonatas would have been performed within the liturgy, we still don’t know where the musicians would have been placed inside the church. Presumably, the position would have been close to the various organs in the Salzburg Cathedral, and we are fortunate to have an exact account of the number and dispositions of the organs from Leopold Mozart.

Organs of the Cathedral

Salzburg Cathedral main organ

Leopold writes, “In the Archiepiscopal Cathedral, the large organ is placed at the back near the entrance of the church; nearer the front, at the choir, there are four auxiliary organs, and below, in the choir itself, there is a small choir-organ about with the singers are placed. During an elaborate service, the large organ is used only for playing the prelude; for the remainder of the service, however, one of the four auxiliary organs is constantly employed, particularly the one nearest the right side of the altar, where the solo singers and basses are stationed.”

Large Forces

Mozart’s Church Sonata No. 4 in D Major, K. 144 music score excerpt

Leopold continues, “opposite, at the left auxiliary organ, are the violinists, etc., and the two groups of trumpets and kettledrums are near the remaining auxiliary organs. The lower choir organ and violins join in at fully scored passages. The oboes and flutes are seldom heard in the Cathedral, and the horn never. All these players are able to play violins if necessary. The full number of persons connected with music, or who receive pay for musical service at the court, is ninety-nine.”

Mozart the Organist

Since every epistle sonata features the organ in one way or another, maybe we also have to look at Mozart’s relationship with that instrument. He held an immense appreciation for the organ, and in a letter to his father in 1777, he wrote, “In my eyes and ears, the organ is the king of instruments.” However, Mozart composed virtually no works for the organ, aside from a few fugues or fragments of fugues.

Mozart the Improvisor

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart © media-cldnry.s-nbcnews.com

However, when it came to playing the organ, Mozart was an undisputed master. The composer Carl Czerny reported that Mozart was able to play the organ with great virtuosity and could improvise intricate music on the spot. That impression is confirmed by Johann Friedrich Doles, Kantor of St. Thomas Church in Leipzig. After hearing Mozart improvise, he wrote, “I was enchanted by his playing and thought that my teacher, old Sebastian Bach, had been reborn.”

The 17 Church Sonatas

Mozart composed a total of 17 Church Sonatas during his tenure at Salzburg Cathedral. They correspond, as Martin Haselböck has observed, with the seventeen instrumental masses composed by Mozart. Scored predominantly for strings and organ, which function either as a solo instrument or as continuo, these works display Mozart’s genius for melody, form, and instrumentation. The first three sonatas, K. 67-69 were possibly written when Mozart was only about eleven years old.

Early Efforts

The actual date of Mozart’s earliest church sonatas is uncertain, but together with K. 144 and 145, they were probably written in the first year of Mozart’s appointment at the cathedral. As you can tell, they are really very short and probably exactly what the Archbishop wanted. As a general observation, the 17 Sonatas are written in 7 keys. Although they are all in major, Mozart does include some striking modulations into the minor key. In Mozart’s hand, as we well know, two bars of minor harmonies can say more than an entire symphony elsewhere.

Central Group

The sonatas in the group ranging from K. 212 to K. 278 originate between 1775 and 1777 and were written for the same ensemble as the first five, for two violins, cello, organ, and bass. There are only two exceptions, K. 263 added a pair of trumpets, and K. 278 featured trumpets, timpani, and a pair of oboes as it was a festive piece written for Easter Sunday in 1777.

Delicious Variety

Let us briefly look at two specific examples, first the sonata K. 244, dating from April 1776. Delicately structured and emphasising a light musical texture, this Sonata opens with a stately and invigorating yet charming musical theme. Independently contributing to the musical discourse, the organ plays a separate concertante part, clearly audible in the slightly subdued thematic contrast.

Composed in 1777, the sonata K. 274 begins with a sprightly unison passage that quickly gives way to an energetic theme. A subtle modulation gradually directs the music towards a delicate dialogue between the instruments before the opening section is repeated.

Final Efforts

The last three church sonatas, K. 328, 329, and 336, have a much more important organ part. Since Mozart would have been playing the organ, he made sure that he would have something interesting to do. K. 328 immediately displays a festive character, one that is not necessarily bound to its sacred function. Operatic in character and symphonic in its overall formal and musical structure, the independent organ part once more enriches the musical texture and provides colourful timbral contrasts.

In fact, K. 336 follows the character and convention of an instrumental concerto. Introduced in the strings, the thematic material is immediately taken over by the organ and thoroughly embellished. This miniature concerto even includes a dedicated cadenza, in which the organist performs an elaborate and virtuosic improvisation.

Stylistically, the works written during the course of one decade mirror the rapid development of Mozart the composer. While the spirit of the Italian opera pervades the early compositions, “the polyphonic structure is increasingly interrupted in favour of a symphonic development.” The great movements “correspond to the symphonic and concertante pieces written around the same time in both their construction and thematic work.”

As Gerald Larner writes, “Mozart gradually asserted his authority from K. 224 onwards, enriching both the texture and the construction, adding harmonic and colour interest, and finally achieved mastery of a peculiar Salzburg form by expanding its limitation.” I am pretty sure that Mozart managed to irritate the impatient Archbishop! While these sonatas are not as widely known as some of Mozart’s other works, they are certainly impressive in their depth and spiritual expressiveness. Happy Birthday!

Giacomo Puccini

by Georg Predota, Interlude

“Inspiration is an awakening”

Giacomo Puccini

One of the most important and influential composers in the history of opera, Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924) produced works of emotional depth, melodic beauty, and rich orchestration. Bringing a new level of realism and expressiveness to the genre, Puccini’s masterworks are famous for their vivid characterisations and the ability to convey complex human emotions.

As Michele Girardi writes, “Puccini revolutionised Italian opera by mastering the orchestra and introducing bold harmonic progressions, aligning with European trends rather than traditional Italian styles. His innovative blending of lyrical vocal lines with intricate orchestral textures produced tender moments of sublime vocalism nestled within the passionate “verismo” style.” On the occasion of Puccini’s birthday on 22 December, let us explore this revolutionary composer through his music. 

Giacomo Puccini: Turandot, “Nessun Dorma” 

Early Days

Giacomo Puccini

Giacomo Puccini, born on December 22, 1858, in Lucca, Italy, was part of a prominent musical family that had held the position of maestro di cappella for over a century. His father, Michele, was a church organist and choirmaster who died when Puccini was only six, marking a significant turning point in his life. Despite early academic struggles, including a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker, Puccini pursued music under his uncle and later at the Pacini School of Music, eventually earning a diploma in 1880.

Giacomo Puccini continued his studies at the Milan Conservatory, composing his first Mass and submitting the Capriccio Sinfonico, a work that earned him recognition, as his graduation project. His first opera, Le Villi, dates from 1884 and was the result of a collaboration with poet Ferdinando Fontana. Puccini continued to revise and expand the opera, and the final version was issued in 1889. In terms of harmonic delicacy and dramatic orchestration, it laid the foundation for his future opera career.

Giacomo Puccini: Le Villi, “Torna ai felici di”

Edgar and Beyond

Giacomo Puccini’s Edgar

Based on a poem by Alfred de Musset, Puccini’s next opera Edgar premiered at La Scala in 1889. Lacking dramatic cohesion and despite a number of revisions, the work was poorly received and ultimately was Puccini’s only true failure. However, Puccini clearly learned his lesson and Manon Lescaut of 1893 became a great success. The libretto underwent a rather complicated development until librettist Luigi Illica strengthened the score and improved the drama.

A scholar writes, “drawing from Wagner’s idea of the leitmotif and combining it with the Italian dramma in musica, Puccini advanced the integration of music and drama.” In other words, Puccini uses recurring themes to represent the emotions and destinies of his characters, as Manon’s theme is repeated throughout the opera, symbolising the heroin’s fate and relationship with her lover. According to scholars, “Puccini’s skilful use of symphonic structures and thematic relationships in Manon Lescaut pushed the boundaries of the operatic genre.”

Giacomo Puccini: Manon Lescaut, “Sola perduta abbandonata”

Realism and La Bohème

Giacomo Puccini’s La Bohème

La Bohème is based on Henri Murger’s Scènes de la vie de Bohème, a collection of loosely related stories all set in the Latin Quarters of Paris. Puccini collaborated with librettists Illica and Giacosa to create a seamless integration of text and music. In fact, a good many people consider it Puccini’s finest libretto. La Bohème, premiered in 1896, stands out for its blend of realism and poetry. Puccini moved beyond traditional operatic forms by using continuous music to reflect everyday life.

Puccini uses lyrical melodies, varied orchestration, and recurring motifs to deepen emotional and narrative impact. The opera’s realism is highlighted in the second scene with dynamic and fast-paced action as cinematic events bring the environment to life. A scholar writes, “a cyclical structure elevates the personal tragedy to a universal level, leaving the sorrow fixed in the timeless realm of art.” In Bohème, Puccini was able to achieve that perfect balance of realism and romanticism, of comedy and pathos, which makes it one of the most satisfying works in the operatic repertory.

Giacomo Puccini: La Bohème, “Quando m’en vo” 

Realism and Tosca

Giacomo Puccini’s Tosca poster

In Tosca, Puccini focused on personal conflicts rather than social status. The story pits the passionate opera singer Floria Tosca and the painter Mario Cavaradossi against the heinous chief of police, Baron Scarpia. The opera explores the fleeting nature of Tosca and Cavaradossi’s love against a backdrop of political and religious conflict. The operatic realism is grounded in historical details and in the choice of three famous Roman locations.

Tosca is the most Wagnerian of Puccini’s operas. It musically relies on a web of musical leitmotivs, providing glimpses of a character’s thoughts and emotional state. Puccini’s musical language, featuring diatonic melodies and successions of unrelated chords, perfectly complements the theatrical and dramatic aspects of the work, and his blending of dramatic realism with modern operatic technique “marked his entry into the 20th century.”

Giacomo Puccini: Tosca, “Vissi d’arte” 

The Exotic

Giacomo Puccini’s Madame Butterfly

Puccini saw the one-act play Madame Butterfly, written and produced by the American playwright David Belasco in London in 1900. Drawn to the emotional depth of the story, Puccini crafted a powerful exploration of love, delusion, and tragedy. In terms of music, Puccini was striving for a sense of Japanese authenticity, engaging in exhaustive research to find, or at least approximate that sense of musical identity.

In all, Puccini revised his Butterfly for a grand total of five times, with the 1907 version considered to be his final say. In Butterfly, Puccini found a wonderful balance between the sentimental and the overwhelming, as moments of great delicacy alternate with emotional outbursts. The conflict is both personal and cultural, and through his unforgettable melodies, not to mention his sophisticated style of orchestration that cleverly aligns specific instrumental groups and orchestral timbres to match distinct dramatic moments, Puccini’s timeless creation will continue to resonate on a variety of psychological and cognitive levels.

Giacomo Puccini: Madama Butterfly, “Vogliatemi bene” 

Evolution

Giacomo Puccini’s La fanciulla del West poster

Puccini called his opera La fanciulla del West (The Girl of the West) his “greatest work.” The work had been seven years in the making and originated during a period of severe family strife. As his long-time collaborator Luigi Illica had died in 1906, Puccini struggled to find a replacement. Puccini was also looking for new directions as he had grown disillusioned with conventional opera genres. A scholar writes, “La fanciulla departs from his earlier operas’ reliance on strict realism and instead delves into more symbolic, emotional expression.”

The opera’s dramatic complexity, innovative use of orchestration, and its departure from rigid realism show a composer at the height of his powers, experimenting with new ways to connect with modern audiences. Clearly, he was not able to please everyone as a good many commentators suggested that Puccini’s music represented a debasement and cheapening of pure Italian values. And his considerable fame abroad was seen as proof that the composer had “wilfully sacrificed national character for cheap commercial exploitation.”

Giacomo Puccini: La fanciulla del West, “Ch’ella mi creda libero e lontano” 

Unity

Giacomo Puccini’s Il Trittico recording cover

After the success of La fanciulla and La Rondine, Puccini eagerly explored this convergence of theatre and music. He began work on a one-act opera in 1913, however, he ended up with a collection of three one-act operas entitled Il Trittico. Comprising Il Tabarro (The Cloak), Suor Angelica (Sister Angelica), and Gianni Schicchi, Puccini attempted to draw together three different operatic genres, the dramatic, sentimental and comic, respectively, in a single project.

In Il trittico, Puccini shows himself to be the undisputed master of musical-dramatic continuity. This continuity becomes apparent within both the constraints of each singular one-act opera, as well as spanning a whole evening of operatic entertainment. This fascinating exploration of contrasting genres continues to be “one of the most innovative and complex works in the operatic canon.”

Giacomo Puccini: Gianni Schicchi, “O mio babbino caro” 

Final Effort

Poster of Turandot‘s performance

Puccini began working on his opera Turandot in the winter of 1919/20, urging his librettists Adami and Simoni to supply him with an Italian translation of Schiller’s adaptation of Carlo Gozzi’s play. Depicting distant lands and customs was a centuries-old musical tradition and Puccini demanded to “find a Chinese element to enrich the drama and relieve the artificiality of it, and to make use of Chinese syllables to give it a Chinese flavour.”

Puccini, once again, looked for a sense of authenticity in this musical characterisation. He visited a former diplomat in China, who owned a music box of genuine Chinese tunes. Three melodies from this music box ultimately found their way into the operatic score. Puccini left his last and most ambitious project unfinished, and Turandot has been described as “the last great Italian opera.”

However, much of the work is not Italian, as it draws on other cultures. Yet, it is in no way authentically Chinese either. A scholar writes, “it is a Western projection of the East, rife with contradictions, distortions, and racial stereotypes, and yet is also one of the most exhilarating and impressive works ever to take the operatic stage.”

Ludwig van Beethoven: A “Bagatelle” Tribute

by Georg Predota

Arguably, the first composer to write true piano music was Ludwig van Beethoven. To be sure, he had tremendous technical ability, and critics wrote, “He was attacking pianos with such force that during the performance, keys, hammers and strings would be flying.”

Ludwig van Beethoven at 26 years old

However, virtuosity is all but one aspect of Beethoven’s piano repertoire, as he was able to compose music with “glowing passion, exuberance, heroism, nobility and dramatic pathos.” His 32 piano sonatas and the late variation sets are at the pinnacle of piano literature, but Beethoven also composed three sets of what he titled “Bagatelles.” 

That particular title implies no specific form, and Beethoven himself called the first six of his Op. 119 “Kleinigkeiten,” or trifles. So, just how serious are these Bagatelles? Well, some of the bagatelles were originally planned as movements for piano sonatas but were subsequently rejected by Beethoven before publication. This seems to suggest that some of the bagatelles, as potential sonata movements, are the compositional equal to sonata movements in quality and completeness.

Beethoven’s house of birth in Bonn, 2008

One thing for sure, the bagatelles are a series of short and sometimes light-hearted piano works in a variety of contrasting characters and moods. It’s hardly surprising that some scholars consider Beethoven’s bagatelles to be the first 19th-century character pieces. To celebrate Beethoven’s baptism on 17 December, let us briefly explore his Bagatelles Op. 33, Op. 119, and Op. 126.

Bagatelles Op. 33

The first of Beethoven’s three published sets of Bagatelles was issued in 1803 by Bureau d’Arts et d’Industrie. The surviving sketches and the nature of the music suggest that Beethoven simply compiled a number of separate pieces that originated anywhere between boyhood and the start of the new century. All 7 Bagatelles display conventional musical forms and styles, and most are written in three-part form.

Photograph of bust statue of Ludwig van Beethoven by Hugo Hagen

Beethoven thoroughly revised his Bagatelles shortly before publication. At the same time, however, he was incredibly busy and worked on his Piano Concerto No. 3, the Symphony No. 2 and the oratorio “Christ on the Mount of Olives.” We still don’t know exactly why Beethoven devoted so much time to the Bagatelles, but Paul Lewis suggests that “in light of Beethoven’s rising fame, it was to satisfy a growing demand from students and amateurs for easy pieces from his pen.”

We find a simple and innocent tune in No. 1, garnished with plenty of ornamentation and light-hearted transitions. No. 2 has the character of a scherzo that humorously manipulates rhythm and accents, while No. 3 appears folk-like in its melody and features a delicious change of key in the second phrase. The A-Major Bagatelle No. 4 is essentially a parody of a musette with a stationary bass pedal, and the minor-mode central section offers harmonic variety.

Beethoven provides some musical humour in No. 5 as this playful piece is a parody of dull passagework. In a really funny moment, the music gets stuck on a single note repeated over and over, like Beethoven can’t decide what to do next. In the end, he decides to repeat what he has already written before. In No. 6, we find a tune of conflicting characters, with the first phrase being lyrical and the second phrase being tuneful. The beginning of No. 7 almost suggests Beethoven’s Waldstein Sonata.

Bagatelles Op. 119

Beethoven’s Bagatelles Op. 119 No. 1 manuscript

In 1823, Beethoven was finishing his late piano sonatas Op. 109, 110, and 111, and he was working on the Diabelli Variations and the Missa Solemnis. In that year, he wrote to Ferdinand Ries in London, “you are receiving six bagatelles or trifles, and again another five, which belong together, in two parts. Dispose of them as favourably as you can.” Ries sold the set to the London publisher Clementi, who issued all eleven pieces in 1823. This edition is titled “Trifles for the Piano Forte, consisting of eleven pleasing pieces composed in various styles.” 

Essentially, in Beethoven’s Op. 119, we are dealing with two different collections combining old and new works. The set builds on five miniatures, which Beethoven composed in 1820 for the third and final volume of Friedrich Starke’s Wiener Piano-Forte-Schule (Viennese School of Piano Playing). Eventually, these 5 bagatelles became Nos 7-11 of Op. 119. Nos 1-5 had already been completed, or possibly sketched, much earlier and dated from around 1800. The central bagatelle in this set was the last to be composed, probably in late 1822, shortly before publication.

In the 1820s, Beethoven’s Leipzig publisher Carl Friedrich Peters was initially interested in publishing the first bagatelles but later emphatically rejected them as he wrote to Beethoven, “I’ve had them played by several people, and not one of them will believe me that they are by you. I asked for “Kleinigkeiten,” but these are really too small… I will say no more about it, other than that I will never print these but will rather lose the fee I have already paid.” And he added, “the pieces are not worth the money, and you should consider it beneath your dignity to waste time with such trivia that anyone can write.”

However, in Beethoven’s mind these miniatures were by no means inferior to his more extended piano works but “were simply ideas that were complete in themselves.” He actually enjoyed writing these little pieces, and he highly valued his “trifles.” Imogen Cooper writes, “Op. 119 form a compendium of technique and piano texture in concise form, as is appropriate for a piano tutor.” We may add, however, that Beethoven may not have always had the amateur performer in mind, given the technical challenges written into some of these “Kleinigkeiten.”

No. 1 presents a rather nostalgic opening, while a busy No. 2 unfolds with triplets surrounding the theme in the right hand. Written in the style of an Allemande, No. 3 promises a point of reflection, but it is interrupted by the opening waltz. A lyrical No. 4 is juxtaposed by an almost pompous No. 5, and No. 6 is the most varied and developed. Trills dominate No. 7, while a tranquil No. 8 features some intriguing harmonic progressions.

No. 9 unfolds in the character of a Ländler and features heavily accented syncopation. No. 10 is noteworthy because of its extreme brevity. Lasting only a few seconds and fitting into a single system of printed music, it is Beethoven’s shortest work, perhaps one of the shortest works of any composer of note. Finally, No. 11 rounds off the set in a mood of graceful contemplation.

Bagatelles Op. 126

Beethoven’s Bagatelle Op. 126

When Beethoven offered the Bagatelles Op. 126 to the publishers Schott & Co. in November 1824, he described them as “6 Bagatelles or Trifles for solo piano, some of which are rather more developed and probably the best pieces of this kind I have written.” Contrary to his earlier Bagatelle settings, Op. 126 was conceived as an integral group of pieces which Beethoven labelled a “cycle of little pieces.”

Designed as a unified cycle from the outset, the Bagatelles are alternately lyrical and introspective, and fast and dramatic, “with the two threads drawn together in the final number; and their keys form a descending chain of thirds, beginning in G major and minor, and ending in E flat major.” And let us not forget that Op. 126 was Beethoven’s last work for the piano offering a concentration of musical thoughts typical of his late style.

As Paul Lewis writes, “Typical of that style is a native fluency in contrapuntal writing paired with freedom from formal constraints in applying it, along with a willingness to write his contrapuntal voices several octaves apart. Beethoven, the architect of massive, great formal structures, shows himself in these pieces as a master of the miniature, deftly creating an immediate impression with his opening gestures and developing his motives with unfettered originality.”

Beethoven treats his material with a great deal of freedom, transforming it through intricate ornamentation as in No. 1. Full of driving energy, No. 2 channels the music into playful directions while the noble simplicity of No. 3 is sustained through many changes in texture. The contrapuntal opening of No. 4 is contrasted by a dream-like section, with plenty of unexpected harmonic and mood changes.

The quietly expressive No. 5 creates a gentle flow with triplet patterns and subtle syncopations, while No. 6 starts and ends with an energetic, turbulent section, framing a central, more composed segment that begins like a barcarolle. The opening Presto dismisses the slower section and the piece ends abruptly. As a commentator wrote, it ends “almost if dismissing the introspective nature of the preceding music; a fitting way for Beethoven to conclude his piano compositions.”

In terms of compositional style, the Bagatelles are comparable to the late string quartets, particularly with the second movement of Op. 132. And to be sure, the relationship between the late bagatelles and Beethoven’s late period works has been the subject of various studies. It uses the same musical language but “offers a musical universe in just a couple of minutes.”

Stylistically, the late Bagatelles looked forward to the foundations of romanticism as the expression of personal emotions became increasingly important. To some observers, Beethoven’s late Bagatelles are the first character pieces, a genre that gained unprecedented prominence later in the century. As Maurice Hinson suggests, “Beethoven’s Op. 126 are, if anything in music can be, self-portraits, as they express his moods and frame of mind the day he composed them.”

As you might have expected, we can’t really talk about Beethoven Bagatelles without mentioning the Bagatelle in A minor, WoO 59. One of the most popular short pieces by the composer, this Bagatelle goes by the nickname “Für Elise.” Probably composed around 1810, it was reworked in the early 1820s. It was first published only in 1867, four decades after the composer’s death, in an appendix to a collection of Beethoven letters and hitherto unknown works.

The inscription “Für Elise” remains a mystery, and various theories suggest young women in or around Beethoven’s circle. The distinctive theme with the repeated neighbour-note is supported by arpeggiated chords shared between the hands. As a scholar reports, in some of the sketches from the early 1820s, Beethoven contemplated “a somewhat more sophisticated layout of the arpeggios, but these did not find their way into a definite version of the work.”

The Beethoven Bagatelles offer a diverse and evolving body of work, displaying the composer’s creative exploration in this genre of short and expressive piano pieces. They evolved from playful themes and structure to pieces of greater sophistication by blending dense harmonic landscapes with sudden shifts in mood, texture, and rhythm.

Beethoven the European: The Ninth, Celebrated in Leipzig, Paris, Milan and Vienna

by Georg Predota, Interlude

Ludwig van Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125

Ludwig van Beethoven was a revolutionary man who lived and worked in tumultuous times as the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars greatly destabilised the European continent. For over two decades of Beethoven’s life, Napoleon was the most powerful man in Europe, an authoritarian who almost succeeded in unifying the continent under French hegemony.

In some works, as Jürgen Thym explains, “Beethoven gave voice to events that were occurring on the political and military level.” The “Bonaparte Symphony,” eventually subtitled “Eroica,” became a celebration of a hero and the musical representation of the ideal of heroic greatness. However, when Beethoven learned that Napoleon had crowned himself Emperor in 1804, he angrily tore up the title page containing the original dedication. And let’s not forget that he gave voice to the demise of the dictator in his highly popular “Wellington’s Victory.”

Ludwig van Beeethoven

The Human Perspective

Beyond the complex and seemingly incomprehensive enormity of Beethoven’s music, we find a man who was thoroughly human. Much has been written and made about his deafness and its impact on the creative process. It predictably affected his mental health by creating a sense of deep isolation and frustration that informed his interaction with society at large.

Beethoven had a small number of close male friends, and most of the women he admired were happily married, committed to somebody else and usually of higher social standing.

Eternally, in search of “tranquillity and freedom,” he showed utter disdain for discipline and authority and, unable to adopt a submissive attitude, brusquely dismissed the conventions of aristocratic society.

In Beethoven, we discover a fragmented individual who is full of contradictions. He struggled with a severe disability, a failing body, mental instability and an alcohol addiction. Once we add his volatile temperament, unrequited love and dreadful communication and social skills to the thorny mix, it becomes clear that composing and the discipline associated with his art was the personal therapy that confidently anchored the sinking ship.

Defiance

Beethoven’s ear trumpets

By 1814, Beethoven had become profoundly deaf, unable to perform in public, unable to hear music, and unable to talk with friends. This silence, which had slowly enveloped the composer beginning in the late 1790s, halted the enormous productivity of his heroic period and led to four years of almost complete inactivity.

The monumental pieces of his “late period” started to take shape in 1819, and the Ninth Symphony emerged as the result of a commission from the London Philharmonic Society in 1821. Completion of the work was delayed until 1824, and Beethoven actually pondered the possibility of concluding his symphony with an instrumental finale. As William Kindermann explained, “a passionate melody in D minor was eventually used in the A-minor String Quartet Op. 132, as Beethoven opted for an affirmative ending.”

Ode to Joy

By appealing to the spirit of Romanticism and the shared ideals of humanity as expressed in Schiller’s “Ode to Joy,” the composer appeared to have made not only a musical point but also issued a decisive cultural statement. As a cultural artefact, Beethoven’s celebration of universal brotherhood has been questioned. However, the utopian ideals expressed are once again highly relevant.

Today, the “Ode to Joy” is the anthem of both the European Union and the Council of Europe. Its described purpose is to “honour shared European values, expressing the ideals of freedom, peace, and unity.” In fact, it has become a trans- and international anthem, “a beacon of hope and community.”

ARTE CONCERT

Beethoven’s “Choral Symphony” first sounded at the Theater am Kärntnertor in Vienna on 7 May 1824. To commemorate the 200th anniversary of this memorable event, ARTE is celebrating Beethoven the European by presenting a special celebration of this work; individual movements are performed in four of the most important concert venues across Europe.

Conductor Andris Nelsons opens the festivities at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, the location of the premiere of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5, also known as the “Emperor Concerto.” The European journey continued in Paris, as the Orchestre de Paris was the first French orchestra to play Beethoven’s symphonies shortly after the composer’s death. For the “Scherzo” movement, the Philharmonie de Paris is in the capable hands of Klaus Mäkelä.

Next, Riccardo Chailly takes us to Milan. He conducts the Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala in a performance of the “Adagio e molto cantabile,” a melancholy and pensive, some would say, brooding movement. The crowing conclusion takes place at the Konzerthaus in Vienna, with Petr Popelka conducting the Vienna Symphony with soloists Rachel Willis-Sørensen, Tanja Ariane Baumgartner, Andreas Schager, and Christof Fischesser.

Andris Nelsons © Marco Borggreve

Klaus Makela © Marco Borggreve

Riccardo Chailly © riccardochailly.com

Petr Popelka © Susanne Hassler-Smith

Assessment

By artistically realising the potential for freedom and optimism within all of us, Beethoven’s music has not only transcended the mundane and the narcissistic, but it is still capable, as it has done in the past, of successfully challenging regressive political ideology. As the world is becoming increasingly fractured and polarised on countless issues, humanity needs Beethoven’s optimism even more urgently today than it did 200 years ago.