Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Beethoven: Sonata Op 2 No 2


Ludwig van Beethoven, as a child

Ludwig grouped his first three sonatas, probably composed in Bonn between 1787 and 1790, in the Opus 2, and they were published in Vienna in 1796. Although they show a clear influence of Haydn and Mozart, the adagio in Sonata No. 3 in C major possesses a rather romantic character, which maestro Arturo Benedetti Michelangelli brings to light sublimely in the rigorous version presented here. In music, what appears effortless may not be easy at all.

If the Moonlight Sonata contains the annotation: "si deve sonnare tutto questo pezzo delicatissimamente", the profound and simple beauty of this adagio should command the listener to “ascoltare tutto questo pezzo delicatissimamente”.






The family

Beethoven's grandfather, called Louis, not Ludwig, is supposed to have settled in Bonn around 1730, after leaving the Netherlands. An acclaimed violinist, he had held in Bonn the position of court musician, and later the post of maestro di capella. His earnings were scarce, and he tried his luck with a wine business. It was not a good idea. Only a little earlier Louis had married Maria-Josepha —a sweet and melancholic German woman, perhaps more melancholic than sweet— and she soon took to the bottle and years later died of alcoholism.

They had an only child, Johann, who inherited his father's musical gifts and his mother’s love for fine wines. In turn, Johann married the daughter of the Court’s cook, who he met when he was a tenor in the Choir of the Prince’s chapel.  Although Grandpa Louis had initially opposed the marriage, because of Maria Magdalene’s low social status, he became very fond of her as he witnessed her efforts to rectify his son’s disordered life.

Of all the children the couple had, only three boys reached adulthood. Ludwig was the oldest, and as such, he had the sad obligation to attend the local prison to identify his father among the other men detained for drunkenness. One should assume that Johann must not have spent all his time drinking; after all, he was able to recognize his child’s musical talent - not quite the precocious genius of Mozart, but astonishing skilled in musical interpretation. Johann decided to lock him up every day in a room to practice his lessons, letting him off only when he could demonstrate a thorough mastering of the lessons.
Thus, Ludwig’s musical training was a duty rather than a desire, a torment rather than innate vocation or creative enthusiasm. Little by little, diligently, he would transform this obligation in an intimate, strictly personal retreat, the only place from where his creative genius could break free.