Program Notes: Emperor Concerto by Beethoven

I’ve been tagged by my wife to pick the nearest book and post two to five sentences that follow the fifth sentence on page 56. Sitting on my desk right in front of me is my reference guide to classical literature in performance: Edward Downes’s out of print The New York Philharmonic Guide to the Symphony. The chapter in question is Beethoven’s Second Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in B-flat Major, Opus 19:

“Indeed this was the earliest of Beethoven’s orchestral works that he saw fit to publish. When he began the Concerto in 1794, he was only twenty-three. He may have performed the first version (of which only a tiny fragment survives) the following year in Vienna; the exact date of the first performance has eluded scholars. But we do know that Beethoven himself was the soloist in the premiere of the revised version (which has come down to us) in Prague in 1798. On that occasion the Czech composer-pianist Václav Tomášek heard him and was so shaken by the experience that he did not touch the piano for several days after.

I haven’t written any notes for Beethoven’s Second Piano Concerto, but I do have program notes for the “Emperor” Concerto, his Fifth. Before I do that, I’m charged with tagging five of you to also pick the nearest book and post two to five sentences that follow the fifth sentence on its page 56. Then, tag five more people to do the same. And the winners are: Steel Valley Outdoors, Five Husbands, Jim Jordan, Brian Corbin, and Federalish Papers.

Finally, I’d like to point out that, if you look over today at the list of blogs posted on this site, more than fifteen(!) regional blogs have updated today or yesterday. That’s a great group of local bloggers keeping you informed and entertained.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Piano Concerto #5 in E-flat major “The Emperor”

Premiered 11/28/1811, Leipzig

In 1809, when Beethoven was writing his fifth and final piano concerto, Napoleon surrounded and then captured Vienna. To protect what was left of his hearing, Beethoven hid his ears from the noise of the bombardment beneath pillows in his brother’s cellar. Furious at the onslaught of his beloved city, Beethoven is said to have shaken his fist at a French officer, threatening, “If I were a general and knew as much about strategy as I do about counterpoint, I’d give you fellows something to think about.”

At this auspicious moment in his life, Beethoven became the first financially independent composer. Napoleon’s youngest brother, Jerome, invited Beethoven to a position as Kapellmeister in Westphalia. Fearing the loss of the city’s pre-eminent composer, some local bigwigs, Archbishop Rudolph, Prince Lobkowitz and Prince Kinsky, pooled their resources to create an annual honorarium of 4,000 florins, on condition that Beethoven remained in Vienna. Beethoven accepted.

Though always an innovator, his last fifteen years saw an incredible rate of evolution in his compositional experimentation. In this concerto, Beethoven placed the orchestra and soloist on equal footing. The two components support and strengthen each other even as they each find their own way. The full effect is akin to fusing the fullness of Beethoven’s symphonies and the artistry of his piano sonatas.

The first movement blasts its way into the concert hall with a massive chord. Startlingly, a piano cadenza begins right out of the gate. Startling because the cadenza—the improvisatory, showpiece solo section of a concerto—typically appeared at the end of the movement. The piano gets two more such statements before the principle theme first nobly appears. The second theme is more wistfully elegant. Both themes are explored by the orchestra in detail before the piano takes a turn at the same material. When the cadenza’s traditional placement arrives, Beethoven explicitly notates what had traditionally been left to the performer to improvise, writing in the score, “Do not play a cadenza but attack immediately the following.” This practice of writing out the solo passage was followed in most instances after Beethoven’s example. A possible explanation is that since he would, for the first time, not himself perform the concerto, he wanted to retain greater control over it.

What follows in the second movement is another example of Beethoven’s ability to create moments of unsurpassing beauty. Understated strings present a heavenly chorale, gradually amplified by the woodwinds. The piano enters and weaves a set of variations from the simple thread. At its conclusion, the music stabilizes on a tone, B natural. Led by the bassoons, the tonality shifts to B-flat. The opening theme of the final movement is suggested quietly. Then, without break, the finale’s buoyant, leaping theme breaks out in the piano. The orchestra can’t seem to resist the urge to take up the song and indeed blast it out immediately after the piano has its turn. This main theme reappears throughout, separated by smaller segments of development. The concerto ends with more surprises: a timpani and piano duet! Sweeping scales lead to the final orchestral flourish.

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