Beethoven wrote his Eighth Piano Sonata (Pathetique) in 1797 and it was published in 1799. The piece was written during what is considered his “early” period. The Pathetique sonata is technically considered to be in the “classical” era of music history but it has many romantic elements. Beethoven is well known for making the first steps towards romanticism because of his adventures in harmony, structural complexity and rhythm.
When it comes to what or whom influenced the writing of The Pathetique, Haydn has to be mentioned, as he was Beethoven’s composition teacher. There are elements of Haydn’s “Drumroll” symphony in the sonata. Additionally, Beethoven had great respect for Mozart. It is believed that Beethoven was inspired by Mozart’s K. 475 piano sonata. Also providing inspiration was Jan Ladislav Dussek, who’s sonata is also quite similar in opening to Beethoven’s.
Beethoven’s 8th piano sonata fits the classical form of the sonata with a few twists thrown in, mainly the introduction material and its reoccurrences before the development and coda. A classical sonata has two main themes that make up the exposition, a development where the main material is placed in different settings and then a recap of the main themes.
The introduction material is the entire grave section, going from measures one through ten [above].
The first theme begins in measure 11 and goes through a perfect authentic cadence in measure 19 moving on to a half cadence in measure 27. This happens again exactly repeated in measure 35 [left]. Beethoven uses these half cadences to move into some transitional material and begins to modulate to Eb major. This is the key of the first statement of the second theme.
Beethoven uses the vii diminished of a flat VII to begin this modulation. It is a common chord modulation, where the VII chord (Bb Major) becomes the dominant in Eb major. The large dominant of Eb major occurs in measure 51.
In the second theme there is an imperfect authentic cadence in measures 59 and 76 and then a perfect authentic cadence in measure 88. After the second theme has been stated for the first time, there is an expanse of transitional material to close off the exposition. The closing section runs from measure 89 to 132.
The imperfect authentic cadence in measure 76.
The perfect authentic cadence in measure 88.
At the end of the closing section in the two different endings, there is first a large dominant to lead back to the first theme in C, and then a large secondary dominant of V to lead into the next grave section, which is a restatement of the introduction material.
The development of the piece begins at measure 137, here Beethoven combines the textural elements from the introductory section, the first theme and the second. I am always amazed by how concise his music is.
Image dump and rest of the analysis below the fold:
Here are piano sonatas from 9 to 16. This includes No. 14, the famous “Moonlight”. There is a nice, thorough analysis of that sonata here at The Classical Music Blog (unfortunately the page hasn’t been updated in over a year with new material).
Beethoven’s “Moonlight sonata”, a name coined by German music critic Ludwig Rellstab after Beethoven’s death, is one of the most widely known classical music pieces, and has been since it was composed some 200 years ago.
But let us examine it more closely and look at the facts surrounding the piece, find past and future musical connections and, of course, compare and choose the best recordings of the sonata.
It is said that Beethoven was inspired to write the sonata while visiting Lake Balaton, located in Hungary.
The sonata, which is in three movements, as most sonatas of the classical period, is best known for the first movement, Adagio sostenuto (there are about 10 times as many recordings of it than there are of the whole piece).
Beethoven’s piano sonatas might be the greatest collection of piano literature ever witten. Even if it isn’t, it is in the pantheon of piano works along with Bach’s Well Tempered Clavier, Chopin’s Preludes and Etudes and the various sets of piano works Liszt wrote. In the following days I’ll upload all of the sonatas and likely put up a broad formal analysis of the Pathetique’s first movement. Here are the first 8:
A couple of posts ago I railed against John Cage for the condescension of his audience. In it I described that Cage’s composition failed because it wasn’t able to express his philosophical point without a didactic explanation. It was not the audience’s failure to comprehend. It succeeded in other ways, by drawing attention to our concert going practices, but in its attempt to get the crowd to listen to its surrounding, it was a bomb. In a way, the problem that Cage had in composing 4:33, was not that his idea that surrounding sounds are uninteresting, but that there are limitations intrinsic to music as an art form in expressing discursive thoughts. This shouldn’t surprise anyone, as music is non-discursive.
A problem that I’ve felt that has progressed from beginning of the twentieth is an increasing gap between the general audience of high art and it’s creators and institutions. When I speak privately with many listeners outside of the classical music world, they often spit when talking about much of the repertoire that’s been written in the 20th century.
Dimitri got no love from some in my classes in high school and college
Much of this is due to ingrained conservatism. In my junior year of high school I brought in a recording of Shostakovich’s 8th String Quartet to orchestra because the second movement rocks. When I played it, many in the class scoffed at its dissonance. Likewise, in college, I wrote a paper on the decline of classical music in the 80s and 90s, which led to the folding of orchestras across the country. To cite an example of music I thought was edgy (and I use this word liberally) that audiences would like, I again brought in The 8th Quartet, which judging by the facial reaction of the listeners in the class, they thought it was ugly and bizarre. This was shocking, and sort of a reality check for me about our society’s preconceived notions about what classical music should be.
This problem doesn’t necessarily mean that our society’s ears are only to blame for the eventual decline and collapse of classical music institutions across the country a decade ago. One issue that must be taken into consideration is the problem that Cage had above, where a small group of composers with incredible influence inside the art music world wrote music that was increasingly impenetrable to even avid classical music listeners. This led to the alienation of new listeners, who are essential in replacing the old, traditionally minded concert base that had listened principally to the high romantics.
This music written in the 20th century is brilliant and because of the philosophical underpinnings of the works, they can’t be dismissed solely on their aesthetics, even if they don’t sound very nice. This protection from a sort of “dead on arrival effect” (because of their antagonistic sound) led to works whose meanings became more and more opaque, and the ideas expressed behind them becoming more so as well. Any display of disgust by audience members was met with equal dismissal by the institution or composer, much like (or worse than) Cage’s reaction to the audience walking out of his first performance of 4:33. This upcoming quote by Gillian Tett is about financiers and their destruction of the financial system, but exchange “financier” with “composer-philosopher” and it suits the topic at hand well:
“Opacity reduces scrutiny and confers power on the few with the ability to pierce the veil.”
What eventually happens happened, is the number of individuals who enjoy works as ideas became smaller and smaller, leading essentially to sophistry of music and eventually economic collapse in the art scene. No new listeners are attracted. This harms all movements in the musical world, because a performing arts organization uses precious resources to put on a work that they can’t sell out, or if the audience walks out half way through a work, the organization won’t make money off drinks at intermission.
I feel that I should be very careful in my attacks on many modernist and post-modern works because much of music enjoyment is subjective. This is on top of the issue I discussed before, where sometimes the general audience’s ears do need to progress. One thing that I can take heart in, though, is that simple economics have seemed to taken hold and boosted the classical music scene after the art music Armageddon of the 90s. It is great to see growing in my field an accessibility in many young composer’s works along with the rise of world music and it’s integration into western art music.
This work is great. Some of it is a little drawn out, like the second movement. But this is characteristic of Schubert sometimes, reusing material in a sectional fashion as a means to produce length. This sectional way of writing, much like in the Trout, reminds me of the way lieder or songs are written, with choruses, verses, reprises and bridges. The third movement is so much fun to play.
What Wikipedia has to say about it:
While it was thought by earlier critics to lack the polish appropriate to a work of high-classical art music, it has grown steadily in reputation. Current consensus holds that the Quintet represents a high point in the entire chamber repertoire; the work is regarded as deeply sublime, with moments of unique transcendental beauty. It incorporates many unusual technical features, including the final two notes: the flat supertonic and the tonic, played forte in all parts.
The recording below is of a pretty good quality. I am used to hearing the middle section of the third movement rolling along faster than what they take it at, so I am not sure I can make a judgment on the aesthetic choice with out hearing more recordings.
Rest of the recording and parts are below the fold.
Yesterday I had a long loooooong discussion with Noam Faingold about whether minimalism is included in the container that is Post-Modernism. I was arguing that it was, based on my belief that post-modernism was analogous to post-world war two (he promptly took me to task for that), and that because there are unified cultural themes in that time period, which both movements were born from, they belong in the same category.
Noam stated that each movement belongs in a different category because post-modernism is about a reflection on a reflection. The hyperreality is what’s important and the fact that it’s critical of the reflection. This makes the movement an Ideational movement, focused more on philosophical points. On the other hand, minimalism is about aesthetics and not trying to make a point at all. It is more a primitive (without any negative connotation, maybe “natural” is a better word?) ideal focused on sound. He used the words, “In minimalism you can turn your brain off.”
I’m fairly certain that I turned our 1.5 hour long discussion into a two paragraph post, but these were the ideas presented and Noam is right that they are different.
This work seems not to be played all that often, (at least relative to the Op. 44’s). In the score I’m looking at, it starts off with a lovely theme and variations then moves onto a quick scherzo. The third movement is the Capriccio, which moves onto a Allegro Fugato section. The final movement is an intensely emotional, slow Fugue. I say “The score I’m looking at” because the recording of the work I have, by the Bergonzi String Quartet (they play great by the way), has the last two movements switched with the Capriccio movement coming last. I would wonder what led them to make this choice.
The Fugue reminds me of the incredible adagio from Beethoven’s Op. 132, incredibly introspective and impassioned. Parts and a recording of the first movement below the break.
Update: Thanks to Tomatt for pointing out that I hadn’t put the cello part up. The links are correct now.
