Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 - Klaus Mäkelä - Oslo Philharmonic

Paul Grabbe on Beethoven's Symphony No. 9

 SYMPHONY  9

In D Minor, with Final Chorus on Schiller's "Ode To Joy" Op. 125 (Popularly Known as the Choral Symphony)  FIRST PERFORMANCE: VIENNA, MAY 7, 1824

Beethoven had a habit of noting down musical ideas in sketchbooks which he carried around with him; of re-working these ideas, again and again, sometimes over a period of years, until, finally satisfied with their content, he would give them their final expression. Most of Beethoven's works passed through this exacting process, and the Ninth Symphony was no exception-- a fact rather upsetting to the "stroke of genius" view of the creative endeavor.

Notations and melodies intended for the Ninth Symphony date as far back as 1817. They make clear that Beethoven had the work in mind at least six years, thinking about it and tightening its ideas even while attending to the execution of other, lesser works. 

When the symphony was finally ready, its initial performance drew an enthusiastic  response. To this, Beethoven at first did not respond. Stone deaf, completely unaware of the ovation he was receiving, he stood there on the conductor's stand, his back to the audience, until one of the soloists took him by the sleeve and pushed him gently around. This incident, touching and rather pitiful, seems to have electrified the audience, for in it were many of Beethoven's friends and admirers; but it may be doubted if many of those present really perceived the greatness of this unprecedented symphony with voices in it. 

Not until the latter part of the nineteenth century did the work-- perhaps the most monumental work in all music-- make any appreciable headway, and then largely through  the ministrations of Richard Wagner who took it upon  himself, through repeated performances, to make the Symphony better known to the public at large.

GUIDE TO LISTENING

First Movement: The work opens with a mysterious rustling in the strings through which we hear the voices of different instruments, as if propounding questions. These are scarcely over when we begin to sense, dimly at first but with increasing certainty, that we are in the presence of something that has depth and width and titanic power. In accents subdued but more and more agitated the movement unfolds, its first theme appropriately likened by some to the pounding of a giant anvil. Suspense hangs over this music, and stress, and its occasional oases of relative tranquility are quickly swallowed by stormy outbursts from the entire orchestra .

Second Movement: Three spirited ejaculations by the orchestra-- the third preceded by a loud imitation on the kettledrums-- and the music rushes irresistible forward. Its exhilarating rhythm, wild yet somehow jolly, conjures visions of a giant skipping merrily along. A breathing spell that is gently lyrical is provided by a contrasting middle section.

Third Movement: This is the slow movement of the Symphony-- lovely, pleading, restrained in its principal melodies of which Hector Berlioz has said: "As for the beauty of these melodies, the infinite grace of the ornaments that envelop them . . . the tenderness, dreamy religious feeling they express-- if my prose could but give an approximate idea of them, music would have found a rival in written speech . . ."

Fourth Movement: The last movement starts clamorously, as though in a mood of militant defiance. This furious opening is followed immediately by brief snatches from the preceding three movements. Sir Donald F. Toby, one of the most scholarly students of Beethoven, has this to say on this subject:

. . ."Beethoven's plan is to remind us of the first three movements . . . and to reject them one by one as failing to attain the joy in which he believes. After all three have been rejected, a new theme is to appear . . . hailed and sung as the hymn of joy." 

This new theme is presently introduced, at first tentatively by the cellos and violas. These are joined by the violins, finally by the entire orchestra. Up to this point the singers have been silent, but now the baritone enters with the words: "O, friends, not these tones! Let us take up a more joyous strain." Whereupon the entire chorus joins in; and now, the triumphant accents of the Ode to Joy burst forth upon us-- music of transcendental and triumphant gladness

From THE STORY OF ONE HUNDRED SYMPHONIC FAVORITES

PAUL GRABBE (1902-1999)

PUBLISHERS GROSSET & DUNLAP, NEW YORK, 1940

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