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Beethoven by George Alexander Fischer

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Among the important works produced in this period may be mentioned the
Sonata, opus 90, "A struggle between the head and the heart." It is
dedicated to Count M. Lichnowsky on the occasion of his marriage to a
singer. There was also the chorus set to Goethe's words, "A Calm Sea and
Prosperous Voyage." This was written in 1815 and seven years later
dedicated to Goethe. The two sonatas, opus 102, for piano and cello, one
of which is called the Free Sonata, are interesting, as in them is
foreshadowed the trend of Beethoven's mind toward religious music, which
controlled him almost entirely from this time on.

The idea of writing another oratorio seems now to have taken possession
of his mind. A preference for this mode appears in his journals and
letters and was probably the subject of conversation on his part. At all
events, the newly established Society of Friends of Music of Vienna
(which Beethoven, with his usual aptitude for punning, used to refer to
as the society of _Musikfeinde_, enemies of music) made him a
proposition to write an oratorio for them, which he accepted. No
stipulations were made as to subject or treatment, and the society
agreed to pay the handsome sum of three hundred gold ducats, merely for
the use of the work for one year. So far as known, this work was never
begun. The Archduke soon after obtained his appointment as
Cardinal-Archbishop, and the work on the mass for the Installation
occupied Beethoven to the exclusion of other works.

The loss by death of three of Beethoven's old friends must have been
greatly felt by him in these years. Prince Lichnowsky, who died in
1814, was the first, and was followed two years later by Prince
Lobkowitz. Hardest of all, however, for the master was the loss of his
friend, Wenzel Krumpholz, who died in 1817. His relations with the
latter were more intimate than with the noblemen, and had continued
without a break almost from the time of his advent in Vienna. Czerny, in
his autobiography, gives an interesting picture of the devotion of
Krumpholz, who attached himself to Beethoven much the same as did
Boswell to Dr. Johnson. He was somewhat older than Beethoven, and his
position as first violinist at the Court Theatre enabled him to be of
much practical service to Beethoven, as he was widely known among the
professional musicians, as well as the rich amateurs. He sounded
Beethoven's praises far and wide: he encouraged him to begin
composition, making propaganda for him among the wealthy dilettante, and
spent a good portion of each day in his company. Beethoven, who at a
later period said of himself that he was too strong for friendship, did
not take kindly to this intimacy at first, but Krumpholz's persistency
was not to be gainsaid. He gave him lessons on the violin, and
identified himself in many ways with Beethoven's advancement. Beethoven
finally became so accustomed to him, that the presence of the other did
not disturb him, and he would improvise before him as if he were alone.
Krumpholz though devoid of genius himself, intuitively recognized its
presence in Beethoven, and led the younger man to discuss his musical
plans and ideas with him. The compositions as they took form in the
young man's mind, were played to Krumpholz, who advised and encouraged
him. The extravagant admiration of the latter sometimes acted on
Beethoven's sense of humor to such an extent that he would make fun of
him, and call him his fool, but this did not deter Krumpholz, who seemed
to think he had a divinely appointed task set him, in aiding the
development of this young genius, and was willing to put up with some
vagaries from him.

In truth, Beethoven needed a champion, for, from the first, a certain
originality, a strenuousness, showed itself in his work, which put the
art on a new and different footing. That the young man was reaching out
for higher things his public may have been aware of, but only a few,
here and there, kindred spirits, cared for this. The average person was
unable to recognize any higher function in music than that of simple
enjoyment; anything aside from this was irrelevant, and could but lead
to deterioration. Although at the beginning of his career as composer,
he made Mozart and Haydn his models, this originality showed itself, and
when it was continued in subsequent works, it awoke the strongest
opposition in certain quarters. The strong partisanship which Krumpholz
brought to bear on the situation, was invaluable to the young man, whose
views needed confirmation and indorsement. Krumpholz seems to have had
an affinity for discovering talent in others. He brought Czerny, at the
age of ten years, to Beethoven, who immediately recognized his genius,
and offered to give him lessons. That Beethoven deeply felt the loss of
his old friend and teacher is evidenced by his writing music to the Song
of the monks,

Rasch tritt der Tod den Menschen an,

from Schiller's Wilhelm Tell, in commemoration of him.




CHAPTER XII

SENSE OF HUMOR

In tristitia hilaris, in hilaritate tristis.
--MOTTO OF GIORDANO BRUNO.


Beethoven did not have much in the way of enjoyment, as the word is
generally understood, to compensate him for the pain of existence. The
resources vouchsafed others in this respect, family affection, love,
friendship, generally failed him when put to the test. Out of harmony
with the general order of things in the material world, the point in
which he could best come to an understanding with his fellow-creatures
was by the exercise of his sense of humor. The circumstances of his life
tended to make a pessimist of him. He did not understand the world and
was misunderstood in return. To counteract the tendency toward
pessimism, his resource was to develop his sense of humor, to create an
atmosphere of gayety, by which he was enabled to meet people on a common
plane. But not only in the ordinary affairs of life does it stand him in
good stead, this sense of humor. It comes out finely in his creative
work in the sonatas and the Scherzo movements of his symphonies. He
originated, invented the Scherzo, developing it from the simple minuet
of the earlier composers. The primary object of the Scherzo was
recreation pure and simple. It was introduced with the object of resting
the mind.

The evolution of humor in music is an interesting subject of study. It
is something foreign to it, an exotic, of slow growth, gaining but
little in the hands of the earlier composers from Bach on. Even with
Haydn it never advanced much beyond geniality. They had essayed it
chiefly in the minuet, but succeeded only in producing something
stately, in which the element of fun or humor, to modern ways of
thinking is hardly appreciable. It found a sudden and wonderful
expansion, an efflorescence in Beethoven, with whom every phase of the
art was developed to colossal proportions. He has made of the Scherzo a
movement of such importance that it lends a distinctive character to his
symphonies. In this form he is unapproachable. In the whole range of
music there is nothing like it elsewhere. It is peculiar to Beethoven,
and is another example of the many-sidedness of the great composer.
"Happiness is a new idea in Europe," said St. Just, speaking of the
period immediately following the French Revolution. Whether or not
Beethoven ever met with this remark, its significance at least was taken
to heart. The word Scherz--joke, sport, is sufficiently obvious. He goes
much farther at times than simply to play pranks, however. A wide range
of expression is possible in the Scherzo when manipulated by a
master-mind like that of Beethoven. The satirical, sarcastic humor which
escaped him in social intercourse at times, is vented on a colossal
scale in the Scherzo, in which he often makes sport of humanity itself,
making it the subject of his jest, his ridicule--its foibles being
shown up, its follies exposed. When projected in this mood, the movement
calls for intellectual co-operation, and is of equal importance with the
others.

Humor has been defined as the outcome of simplicity and philosophy in
the character. It can exist independently of genius we know, but genius
is never without humor. In other words, wherever there is a work of
genius, it transpires that the author has a fund of humor with which he
occasionally enriches his work. The profoundest philosophical treatises
have it. It is a part of the stock in trade of every great novelist;
Fielding, Thackeray, George Eliot, Walter Scott. It frequently comes to
the surface in Schopenhauer pessimist though he be; it pervades
Shakespeare. Few men regarded life with greater seriousness than
Thoreau, but humor sparkles all over his works. It is only where this is
in excess that it detracts from the value of the work. Not important in
itself when separated from the deeper work which it accompanies, it is
yet, all in all, one of the infallible tests, though a minor one, of the
work of any man of genius. A sense of humor exists in the man even
though he keep it out of his work, if he is good for anything.

Beethoven's humor was titanic, heroic, on a grand scale, always with
what might be called a certain seriousness about it like that of a lion
at play. Mozart gives many instances of humor in his compositions, but
with a great difference in the character. His disposition was all
gentleness and sweetness, and his humor is characterized by these
attributes. It is on a small scale, and though enjoyable, has nothing
commanding about it. The musician, more than any artist, reflects his
character and trend of life in his work.

This sense of humor, inherent in the mental equipment of Beethoven,
enabled him to enjoy a joke as well as give it, to perceive a ridiculous
situation and extract due amusement from it, to appropriate it wherever
he found it. But singularly enough, when the point of a joke was turned
against himself, his sense of humor failed him utterly. He would often
become angry in such cases and the perpetrator would come in for a round
of abuse which made him chary of attempting it again.

Very bad music of which there was a sufficiency already in those times,
gave him great amusement, which he manifested by roars of laughter, we
are informed by Seyfried, who saw more or less of him during a period
covering a quarter of a century. "All his friends," says Seyfried,
"recognized that in the art of laughter, Beethoven was a virtuoso of the
first rank." He often laughed aloud when nothing had occurred to excite
laughter, and would in such case ascribe his own thoughts and fancies as
the cause. Naive and simple as a child himself, he could only see the
naivete in the worthless compositions above referred to, and could not
understand the small ambition back of the pitiful effort. He often
unintentionally afforded equally great amusement to others by his own
naivete. Thus he once told Stein, of the noted family of pianoforte
makers that some of the strings in his Broadwood were out of order or
lacking, and to illustrate it, caught up a bootjack and struck the keys
with it. Ries states that Beethoven several times in his awkwardness
emptied the contents of the ink-stand into the piano. On this same piano
the master was often begged to improvise. The instrument was a present
from the manufacturers, and when made, was probably the best example of
its kind extant. It later came into the possession of Liszt.

Beethoven's love of a joke was such that it appears in the title to one
of his works, the opus 129. It is a rondo a capriccio for piano, with
the title, Die Wuth ueber den verlorenen Groschen (fury over a lost
penny), of which Schumann says "it would be difficult to find anything
merrier than this whim. It is the most harmless amiable anger."

Beethoven was ready in repartee, and full of resources, with a wit that
was spontaneous and equal to any emergency. One New-year's day, as he
and Schindler were sitting down to dinner, a card was brought in

JOHANN VAN BEETHOVEN
_Gutsbesitzer_ (Landed proprietor).

Beethoven took the card and wrote on the back of it--

L. VAN BEETHOVEN
_Hirnbesitzer_ (Brain proprietor).

and sent it back to Johann. Cold-blooded, selfish, always ready to
profit by his talented brother, and never caring how he compromised him,
it was not to be expected that Johann would have the master's approval,
or that there could be any accord between them. In any encounter, the
composer generally managed to be master of the situation, through the
exercise of his wit, something which the duller Johann could neither
appreciate nor imitate. It may be said in passing, that the master
supplied the funds which enabled Johann to start in business. This was
in 1809. He made money rapidly in army contracts, a business for which
he was well qualified, and finally bought an estate and set up for a
landed proprietor.

Beethoven's waggishness was frequently vented on a young friend,
Zmeskall, who was court secretary. Zmeskall undertook the task of
keeping the master supplied with pens, which he cut from goose-quills.
Beethoven used up large quantities of them and was incessant in his
demands on him. A certain drollery characterizes all his letters to him.
He knew how to hit the vulnerable points in the other, and they were
often made the subject of attack. Zmeskall being a member of the
nobility, is often addressed by him, "Most high-born of men." He was
useful to Beethoven not alone on the subject of pens, but was appealed
to by him for advice and assistance on all sorts of matters. Zmeskall,
though a bachelor, lived in fine state, and maintained several servants.
He was thus in a position to procure the right sort of one for
Beethoven. Many of the letters are either on this theme or in regard to
securing him another lodging. Zmeskall is his resource in many of the
small matters of every-day life, perplexing to him, but simple enough to
the practical man. The master's helplessness is shown with pathos and
unconscious humor in the following note:

LIEBER ZMESKALL,--

Schicken sie mir doch ihrem spiegel, der naechts ihrem fenster haengt
auf ein paar stunden der meinige ist gebrochen, haben sie zugleich
die Guete haben wolten mir noch heute einen solchen zu kaufen so
erzeigten sie mir einen grossen Gefallen. Ihre Auslage sollen sie
sogleich zuruek erhalten. Verzeien sie lieber Z meiner
zudringlichkeit. Ich hoffe sie bald zu sehen.

Ihr,
BTHVN.

DEAR ZMESKALL,--

Won't you kindly send me the mirror that hangs next to your window
for a few hours. Mine is broken. If you will at the same time have
the goodness to buy me such another you will do me a great favor.
Your outlay will be immediately returned to you.

Pardon dear Z my importunity. I hope soon to see you.

Your,
BTHVN.

Beethoven's lapses from grammar (untranslatable into English), indicate
his impatience at the trivial wants and necessities which interrupt his
creative work and take his thoughts from his compositions. Instances of
bad grammar in his letters are frequent, when dealing with ordinary
topics. In no sense a polished man, he could, however, when the occasion
required it, assume in his grammar and diction the grace and elegance of
the scholar, but it does not often come to the front. He was too rugged,
too headstrong, to pay much attention to the little niceties of life.

In common with his contemporaries, Zmeskall found his principal
enjoyment in music. He gave musical parties at his quarters, playing the
cello himself, and gathered about him many of the most distinguished
artists and amateurs of the day. Beethoven was always interested in
feats of virtuosity, but he cared little for the compositions of
others. He occupied himself with his own work to the exclusion of that
of his contemporaries. His musical library was scant, consisting of a
small collection of the works of the early Italian masters, bound in one
volume, some of Mozart's sonatas--which must have seemed to him
curiously stunted and commonplace in comparison with his own--and a
portion of Don Giovanni. In addition, he possessed all of Clementi's
sonatas, which he greatly admired and which formed the basis of the
musical studies of his nephew for several years. Lastly there were a few
works of Bach, consisting of the Well-tempered Clavichord, some motets,
three volumes of exercises, some inventions, symphonies and a toccato.

In speaking of Weber he said that he began to learn too late, and makes
the curious criticism that Weber's only apparent effort was to attain
the reputation of geniality. In reading Freischutz, he said he could
hardly help smiling at certain parts, but afterward qualified this by
saying that he could judge it better if he could hear it. Schindler
says, that when Rossini came to Vienna in 1822, and endeavored to call
on Beethoven, the master succeeded in escaping his visits. His opinion
of Haendel is high. He once remarked to a friend who called on him,
"Haendel is the greatest composer that ever lived." Continuing the
narrative this friend, J.A. Stumpf of London, says, "I cannot describe
the pathos and sublimity with which he spoke of the Messiah of that
immortal genius. We all felt moved when he said, 'Ich wuerde mein Haupt
entbloessen und auf seinem Grabe niederknieen.' (I would kneel at his
grave with uncovered head.)"

Of Mozart, he said, near the end of his life, in a letter to the Abbe
Stadler, "All my life I have been esteemed one of the greatest admirers
of Mozart's genius and will remain so until my latest breath." Czerny
said that he was at times inexhaustible in praise of Mozart, although he
cared nothing for his piano works and he makes a severe criticism on Don
Giovanni. "In this opera Mozart still retained the complete Italian cut
and style. Moreover, the sacred art should never be degraded to the
foolery of so scandalous a subject. The Zauberfloete will ever remain his
greatest work, for in this he showed himself the true German composer."
Of Cherubini's Requiem he said, "as regards his conception of it, my
ideas are in perfect accord with his and sometime I mean to compose a
Requiem in that style." (Later in life his opinion of Cherubini was
greatly modified). He seldom spoke of Haydn, and had nothing of that
master's compositions in his library.

Beethoven's collections in literature were far more extensive and
interesting than in music. He was essentially a student. His
predilections and thoughts all tended toward the acquisition of
knowledge. This was a veritable passion with him. His mind ranged
through almost every department of literature. In the intervals of his
work, worn by fatigue, he was in the habit of resting his mind by
reading the classics, or Persian literature. Schindler, who was near him
for the last ten years of his life says in relation to Beethoven's love
of the Greek classics. "He could recite long passages from them. If any
one asked him where this or that quotation was to be found he could find
it as readily as a motive from his own works." Elsewhere he says,
"Plato's Republic was transfused into his very flesh and blood." He was
an insatiable reader of history. As may be supposed Shakespeare was an
especial favorite with him. There is a curious little work published
called Beethoven's Brevier, made up of those portions of Shakespeare and
the classics for which he had a particular regard. Here, Shakespeare is
first on the list. There are also many selections from the Greek, and
from Schiller, Goethe, Herder and others.

Although a man of considerable culture, he was not an educated man, all
his available time and strength having been required for his musical
training. He was, however, the equal or superior in mental attainments
of any of the great musicians, with the exception of Wagner. He had the
strongest faith in his own powers. It was his belief that almost
anything could be accomplished by trying. Side by side with this belief
was the ineradicable conviction that intellectual culture was of more
importance than anything else in the universe. He stated his views
finely on this subject in a letter to a young girl, unknown to him, who
had sent him a present with a letter expressing her appreciation of his
music. "Do more than simply practice the art (of music), penetrate
rather, into the heart and soul of it. It will be found well worth
while, for art and knowledge alone have the power to elevate mankind up
to Deity itself. Should you want anything of me at any time, write me
with entire confidence. The true artist is never arrogant; rather he
sees with regret how illimitable all art is, and how far from the goal
he remains. While he may be admired, he only grieves that he cannot
reach the point toward which his better genius beckons him."

We read of his ordering complete sets of Schiller and Goethe in the
summer of 1809. The study of these authors carried on under most
unfavorable conditions, bore good fruit subsequently, as some good work
was inspired by them. The Egmont music, which appeared the following
year, the Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage, Bundeslied, the different
settings of Erlkoenig, the four settings of Sehnsucht are instances,
although this does not by any means complete the list of his settings
from the works of the authors just named.




CHAPTER XIII

MISSA SOLEMNIS

Christianity is the doctrine of the deep guilt of the human race
through its existence alone, and the longing of the heart for
deliverance from it.
--SCHOPENHAUER.


To Christianity and the spirit of religion in man we are indebted for
some of the finest arts which adorn our civilization. It was the
religious principle which brought into being the temples and statuary of
ancient Greece, as well as the splendid examples of Gothic architecture,
which have come down to us from the middle ages. It is this which has
given us those masterpieces in painting and sculpture, which have so
enriched the world; but above all it has given us music, highest of all
the arts. Here its influence has been most potent. Originating outside
the church, it found its best development within it. Religious fervor
had inspired some imperishable works of genius at a period when nothing
much had yet been done in secular music. The Masses of Palestrina, the
entire life-work of Sebastian Bach, the oratorios of Haendel, are cases
in point. The old masters with hardly an exception gave their best
thought to sacred music. Bach has been mentioned. Haydn's important work
comes under this classification. Of the works of Haendel, only those of
a religious nature have survived to the present day, although he
composed many operas.

The Masses and Passion-music of the old composers were often written
without hope of reward, entirely from love of the subject; they were
impelled to it, either through religious ardor, or from the force of
their artistic perceptions. The stateliness and solemnity of the Mass,
the tragic possibilities of the Passion, appealed to them, and satisfied
the tendency toward mysticism, which is so often a part of the artistic
nature.

As an art, music finds its best development when of a religious
character. While operatic and even orchestral music in general, is
written more for the sake of giving pleasure than with any clearly
defined ethical purpose, the music of the Mass and Passion, religious
ceremonies, entering into man's profoundest experiences, is given for
spiritual enlightenment, and, being a part of the soul's needs, demands
and receives higher treatment and more serious consideration than
secular music. The very frame of mind which takes possession of a person
while listening to music of a religious character, is favorable to a
true appreciation of it. The listener is more in earnest, and the
emotions called up by the subject impress him more strongly than when
listening to secular music. These considerations have their influence on
the composer also. We usually find in religious music of the best class,
depth and earnestness of purpose commensurate with the expectation of
the listener.

These few words are preliminary to a consideration of the Mass in D, the
work in which Beethoven reached his culmination as an artist. He himself
so regarded it, declaring it to be his greatest and best work. It is
certain that he spent more time on it, and gave it a larger share of his
attention than was devoted to any other of his works.

For several years prior to this, Beethoven's muse had been silent for
the most part. No important work since the completion of the Eighth
Symphony had been achieved, with the exception of the sonatas mentioned
in a previous chapter. This was owing to the various lawsuits in which
he found himself involved. His troubles had now been adjusted, however,
to such an extent as to enable him to again turn his attention to large
works. The pension which had been settled on him in 1809 had been
imperilled by the death of Prince Kinsky and the bankruptcy of Prince
Lobkowitz. The portion of it which had been pledged to him by these
gentlemen had been discontinued or greatly reduced, and Beethoven had to
have recourse to the law to protect his rights. A compromise was finally
effected, which resulted in the pension being paid in part. Although the
litigation, in regard to his nephew was still on, it was becoming more
and more apparent that the outcome of it would be in his favor. His mind
at rest on these points, we find him once more in good health and
spirits, with creative energy not only unimpaired but greater than ever.
"In general, every evil to which we do not succumb is a benefactor,"
said Emerson.

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