An antidote to the frenzies of our time –
Now that the thunder of the 2018 election has subsided into rumbles, let’s give the timeless thunder of great piano music a listen, in particular Ludwig van Beethoven’s third movement of the “Appassionata” sonata.
Those familiar with this sonata may argue that the first movement is the more distinctive, and is also more structurally coherent—despite its swings between ominous shadows and brilliant arcs, still a stable edifice. The third is—well, the “structure” is a vehicle racing along a precipice in an earthquake, jolted and swayed and flown and flung and repeatedly braked and accelerated under a sky of swirling rainbows sucked from an alien planet.
The sonata itself to come in a minute, but first an aside on Beethoven’s most devoted fan, the “Peanuts” character Schroeder, and Schroeder’s creator, Charles Schulz. Unbeknownst to me until I read the piece on Schulz and Schroeder by April Dembrosky in the New York Times, Schulz also had “a weakness for country western.”* I was also unaware that Beethoven’s food of choice was macaroni and cheese.** ( Read about it here.
For the Appassionata 3rd movement, I’m going as usual to the incomparable Beethoven interpreter Valentina Lisitsa (headphones recommended):
If you like it, I recommend listening again without the visual—not only minimize the window dominated by Lisitsa, but also close your eyes, headphones on, and bury yourself in the sound. Quite a different experience—an excursion into, not a parallel, but rather an orthogonal universe.
Appassionata third movement in context:
But what’s with the hammering on repeated chords in the opening measures? Seems a bit much. That deserves an explanation, and for that we have to backtrack to the segue from the second movement. The second movement is tender and poignant, and bridges with a chord dissonant as a knife-slash—then comes the explosion that kicks you into the wild rush of the third.
Yet another step back . . .
For a still broader context, you may want to listen to the entire sonata, and I refer you now to the whole beast performed in concert by Lisitsa. For the second movement alone. go to minutes 10:40 to 17:05.
So why the heck did I start you with the third movement alone? Three reasons:
(1) to spare you time and patience. By “you” meaning those not enamored of classical music. My guess was that few readers/listeners would get to the third if they had to start with the first.
(2) Whoever donated the third movement to YouTube recognized the uniqueness of this performance, done in rehearsal—where, I guess, Lisitsa felt free to go all out. In the in-concert recording, she is relatively restrained, conscious of the audience. In the rehearsal, she’s on fire.
(3) As stated before, to my mind the third movement is in a class by itself, regardless of who is performing it, when or where. It makes me picture . . . well, if you want to know what I picture then give me a shout—I don’t want to bias you. My vehicle-on-a-precipice metaphor isn’t even close.
(4) In the comments section of the rehearsal version, there is a fascinating, possibly apocryphal anecdote of Beethoven, growing deaf, playing this sonata to an assistant. See by Chris Soames about 10 comments down.
Finally, for a rousing street performance by Lisitsa in Paris on a slightly out-of-tune upright:
You get more of a view of the left hand. And Ray Charles.
================= footnotes =================
* Schulz actually preferred Brahms. Brahms’s piano concerto in B-flat (his second) is one of the most emotionally rich in the repertoire, and for my money is the best piano concerto ever written. If you have 1-50 minutes to spare, you might want to listen to this performance by Emanuel Ax: https://youtu.be/40NsFKuskH0
** Mac & Cheese! There’s no better proof that the great and famous have feet of clay. He might also have enjoyed 21st-Century fast food joints—I’m not so sure he would have enjoyed country western. David Bowie yes, Johnny Cash no.