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Madison Symphony Orchestra Program Notes
February 6-7-8, 2009
83rd Season / Subscription Concert No. 6
Michael Allsen

This program features the works of Beethoven, all drawn from the fertile period his biographers have labeled the “heroic decade” (1802-1812). We open and close with large orchestral works from this decade: the intensely dramatic Leonore Overture No.3 and the great, joyous Symphony No.7. Between these works, the phenomenal Russian pianist Olga Kern joins the Madison Symphony Orchestra for Beethoven’s third piano concerto

A page from the “Heligenstadt Testament”

Heroic Beethoven
Beethoven’s own revealing letters are the end-posts of this “heroic decade.” In 1802, Beethoven wrote a will now known as the “Heiligenstadt Testament”—a letter that reveals that he is becoming deaf and ever more personally isolated, and even hints that he had considered suicide. His answer was seemingly to throw himself furiously into his work. Ten years later, he wrote a series of passionate letters to a woman identified only as his “Immortal Beloved” (probably a young married woman named Antonie Brentano whom he had met in 1810)—his last great romantic attachment. The ten years between the Heiligenstadt Testament and the Immortal Beloved lettesr were the most productive of his life. In the face of this, the ultimate challenge to a composer—ever-encroaching deafness—Beethoven's output over the next decade was indeed heroic: the third through eighth symphonies, the “Razumovsky” quartets, the final three piano concertos, the violin concerto, and Fidelio. Beethoven's writings and the dramatic content of his music during this period—particularly his third (Eroica) symphony and his only opera, Fidelio—show an increasing preoccupation with the ideals of human dignity, heroism, and freedom. These works greatly expand the Classical forms, sometimes transcending these forms altogether, and they focus on exhaustive development of thematic material.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Leonore Overture No.3, op.72a

This overture—one of several Beethoven composed for the opera Fidelio—was composed in 1806, and was first performed in Vienna on March 29, 1806. The Madison Symphony Orchestra has played the work on eight previous programs, beginning in 1936. Our most recent performance was in 1992. Duration 14:00.

Beethoven’s only opera Fidelio—originally titled Leonore—reflects Beethoven’s heroic ideals: it is a rather tangled story of Florestan, a young man wrongly and secretly imprisoned by the evil prison warden Pizarro. Florestan’s wife Leonore spends most of the opera in disguise as a young man, Fidelio, who works at the prison as the jailer’s assistant. In the end, as Pizarro is about to murder Florestan, Leonore, in hiding in Florestan’s dungeon, leaps between them, pistol in hand, to protect her husband. The standoff is ended by the sudden arrival of the King’s minister. Florestan is freed and reunited with Leonore, Pizarro is led away in chains, and the opera ends in rejoicing.

The opera and its overtures are also a case of Beethoven’s willingness to revise and re-revise his music. The overture now known as Leonore No.2 was composed for the opera's premiere in 1805. This first performance was a dismal failure, and Beethoven staged an equally unsuccessful performance of the opera in 1806. The most important revision in the 1806 version was Beethoven's substitution of a new overture, Leonore No.3, a streamlined and dramatically remodeled version of Leonore No.2. Beethoven wrote the overture known by the somewhat misleading title Leonore No.1 in 1807, in anticipation of a performance of the opera in Prague, which never took place. (In the 1970s, Beethoven scholar Alan Tyson discovered that the composer made a few preliminary sketches for a fourth Leonore overture, yet another reworking of Leonore No.2!) After the failures of 1805 and 1806, and his abortive attempt to produce Leonore in Prague, Beethoven put the opera on the shelf until 1814, when it was successfully produced with substantial dramatic and musical revisions. This 1814 version—the version of Fidelio we know today—had an entirely new overture (the Fidelio Overture), which abandoned the “Leonore” music altogether.

Beethoven's Leonore No.3 is certainly the best of the three earlier overtures, and it stands beside his symphonies as an orchestral masterpiece. At least one writer has suggested that the very strength of this overture contributed to the failure of the 1806 version of the opera—by completely overshadowing the first act! It is still, however, occasionally performed with opera today: inserted as an interlude after the intensely dramatic rescue scene in Act II. Leonore No.3 begins with a slow introduction: Florestan's lament from Act II of the opera. Tension builds until the introduction of the first Allegro theme, a syncopated and energetic melody in C major. The gentler theme that follows quickly gives way to a long section of development. A trumpet call and a hymn of thanksgiving refer to the opera’s climactic moment, when Fidelio is saved by the courage of his wife. The Allegro theme is reintroduced, hesitantly at first, and then triumphantly. The overture ends with a massive transformation of this main theme.

Beethoven in 1803

Concerto No.3 in C minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 37

Much of the work on this concerto was done in 1799-1800, though Beethoven continued to revise the work through 1802-03. The first performance took place on April 3, 1803, with Beethoven as soloist. Previous performances of the work at these concerts have reatured John Browning (1973) and Yefim Bronfman (2003). Duration 37:00.

When Beethoven moved to Vienna in 1792 his greatest notoriety was as a pianist—there are astonished reports of his virtuosity and almost arrogant mastery of the instrument. Most of his piano works were of course written for his own performances, and he logically turned to the concerto as a showcase for his talents. There was an unfinished concerto in E-flat composed when he was only 16, but his first complete concerto was the work we now know as the Piano Concerto No.2, written in 1794-95. The Concerto No.1 was completed in 1800. Though his third concerto was more or less finished by the spring of 1800, Beethoven set it aside before adding the finishing touches. The impetus for finishing the work seems to have been a benefit concert staged at the Theater an der Wein on April 3, 1803. This program, which included his first symphony, the premieres of his second symphony and the oratorio Christ on the Mount of Olives, would not have been complete without a new solo concerto. Preparation for this concert—a marathon by today's standards—was limited to a single long rehearsal, and Beethoven was actually obliged to drop a few additional(!) pieces because they could not be prepared in time. He himself was actually completing the oratorio on the morning of the concert, so an incident recounted by the conductor Ignaz von Seyfried should come as no surprise. Beethoven conducted the concerto from the piano, and Seyfried, who was assigned to turn pages for Beethoven, later remembered:

“I saw almost nothing but empty leaves; at the most, on one page or another a few Egyptian hieroglyphs, wholly unintelligible to me were scribbled down to serve as clues for him; for he played nearly all of the solo part from memory since, as was so often the case, he had not had time to set it all down on paper. He gave me a secret glance whenever he was at the end of one of the invisible passages, and my scarcely concealable anxiety not to miss the decisive moment amused him greatly and he laughed heartily at the jovial supper which we ate afterwards.”

It is entirely possible in fact that Beethoven may have improvised some bits—and certainly the cadenza—on the spot, though he later wrote a cadenza that has become a standard in performing the concerto.

The opening movement (Allegro con brio) begins with a lengthy orchestral introduction that lays out both main ideas: a tragic main idea and more cantabile theme played by the clarinet. The piano's first entrance is with three bold runs that lead into the main theme. While the movement proceeds in rather conventional sonata form, with development of the primary theme at the forefront most of the way, the surprising ending seems to be a kind of tribute to Mozart's C minor concerto (No. 24, K. 491), one of Beethoven's favorite works. As in Mozart's concerto, he dispenses with the usual Classical convention, which has the piano part rest after the closing cadenza to leave the orchestra alone for brief coda. Here, the piano remains in control almost until the final chord.

The Largo begins with a whispered meditation by the solo piano that is picked up with hushed intensity by the orchestra. Orchestra and soloist exchange roles in the central section, with a lovely duet for bassoon and flute accompanied by piano arpeggios. The opening music returns once more, lightly developed, and there is a short coda with a brief horn solo that closes the movement.

The final movement (Rondo: Allegro) also seems to have Mozart in mind. The piano introduces the main theme, which ties together a series of contrasting episodes. The central section serves almost as a development: after a nice little clarinet duet, the orchestra begins a brief but intense fugue that leads the piano into a Major-key version of the theme, and further developments of the main idea in the orchestra. There is a cadenza, and then Beethoven gives us a final surprise, a shift to 6/8, and furious C Major coda.

Beethoven in 1814

Symphony No.7 in A Major, Op.92

Beethoven's seventh symphony was completed in 1812, and performed for the first time in December 1813. The Madison Symphony Orchestra has played the Symphony No.7 on six previous occasions, beginning in 1940, and most recently in 2002. Duration 38:00.

Beethoven's seventh and eight symphonies, which were composed at roughly the same time during 1811-1812, are among the last products of the “heroic decade,” and their sublime optimism and joy are truly their most “heroic” qualities—these were works written when the composer had become almost entirely deaf, when his ill health and loneliness could have dried up his inspiration. The seventh, which Richard Wagner called “the apotheosis of the dance,” is particularly exuberant, and there is evidence that it seems to have been one of the Beethoven's own favorites.

The Symphony No.7 was first performed on December 8, 1813, at a benefit concert for Austrian and Bavarian soldiers wounded at the battle of Hanau. Beethoven also included his “battle symphony” Wellington's Victory on this program. The Symphony No.7 was warmly applauded, but Wellington's Victory caused a greater outpouring of praise than any of Beethoven's earlier works. Beethoven's own opinion was at odds with this approval—he was disgusted with the public's rapture over what he considered to be a shoddy piece of work, and more than a little disgusted with himself for writing it. Since that time, however, Wellington's Victory has lapsed into well-deserved obscurity, and the Symphony No.7 has been recognized for what it truly is, one of Beethoven's most joyful and subtle works. Despite its lightness of feeling, however, the seventh is the longest and most complex of the symphonies, save the ninth, and displays a confident compositional virtuosity in matters of form and thematic development.

The long introduction to the first movement (Poco sostenuto) is almost a movement unto itself, with two themes exposed and fully developed in the course of its 64 measures. However, at the point we would expect to hear a recapitulation, the texture begins to thin, finally leaving only violins and upper woodwinds to echo one another. The rhythmic fragment that is passed between them blends seamlessly into the beginning of the Vivace. Immediately, we hear a distinctive three-note rhythm that will dominate this movement. The opening theme, played by the flute, emerges from this rhythmic figure and is gradually taken up by other sections of the orchestra. There is a brief hold, and a sweeping string figure leads back into a statement of the theme by full orchestra. A second theme is also built from the same rhythmic material. In the extended development section, Beethoven shows his mastery of contrapuntal writing. A grand crescendo and a forceful passage by full orchestra leads to a recapitulation of the opening theme. Even at this point, Beethoven is able to pry further surprises from his thematic material, before bringing the movement to a close with a lengthy coda.

The second movement (Allegretto) begins as a solemn theme and variations. The theme is first heard in the low strings, and the color of the sound becomes brighter as the first three variations proceed: first the second violins are added, then the firsts, and finally, the entire orchestra is added to the mix. After the third variation, Beethoven abandons the theme briefly in favor of a pastoral melody in A Major. The movement then moves on in the manner of a rondo: introducing new material, but always returning to elaborate variations on the original theme.

The scherzo is one of Beethoven's most charming symphonic movements Here he expands the traditional three-part form of symphonic third movements to a five-part structure with elements of sonata form. The opening section is a good-natured scherzo theme (Presto), and the trio is contains somewhat slower and sweeter music (Assai meno presto). Following the trio, the scherzo theme is stated again and developed. Another statement of the trio and a return to the scherzo round out the form. As a parting joke, Beethoven begins the trio melody yet again, now in a mournful D minor, but after only four measures, brings the movement to an abrupt end in the original key.

One writer has described the Finale (Allegro con brio) “…a triumph of Bacchic fury.” This movement is filled with good humor and incessant energy. The opening theme is clearly dancelike in nature, recalling some of the pastoral ideal of the sixth symphony. The second theme is softer in nature, with mincing dotted figures in upper woodwinds and strings. As if to counterbalance the massive introduction of the first movement, Beethoven provides the final movement with a grand coda extending for well over 100 measures. This extensive closing section serves almost as a second development, providing further musical space in which to exhaust the possibilities of thematic material.

“I am Bacchus incarnate, to give humanity wine to drown its sorrow... one who divines the secret of my music is delivered from the misery that haunts the world.”
- Beethoven