'Wig's Big Gig (book review)

Who doesn't remember the famous story of ol' deaf Ludwig von Beethoven conducting his Ninth Symphony in D Minor, Opus 125 in Vienna and being unable to hear the response to that joyous, raucous ever-popular ending, inspired by Friedrich Schiller's poem, "An die Freude (Ode to Joy)."

I first reader-responded to this moment with tears in me augen by way of the still-salient biographical words performed in three volumes by Alexander Wheelock Thayer in his Life of Beethoven. But many folks became familiar with this mythopoetic scene in the film, Immortal Beloved (1994), starring Gary Oldman, who went on from there to play Lee Harvey Oswald, and these days a wizened sardonic British spy in the streaming series Slow Horses.

The momentous event took place on May 7, 1824 and a new book by Theodore Albrecht has been issued to commemorate it, Beethoven's Ninth Symphony: Rehearsing and Performing Its 1824 premiere. The book is essentially a derivative product of Albrecht's earlier collection of Conversation Books on Beethoven. Here, Albrecht focuses on the production notes leading up to the performance and the personal pressures affecting Beethoven's disposition -- professional, pecuniary, and particular.

The book is sectioned into eight chapters, beginning with the the composition of the Ninth and its draft revisions, finding a suitable location to play, the early rehearsals, the two premieres, celebratory parties, and the sobering financial predicament of Beethoven's later life. In other words, an intriguing study of a prolific artist's life, living on borrowed money and borrowed time (heavy metals contributed to his demise).

Science reporter Ari Daniel, told NPR, "The lead levels in Beethoven's hair were 64 to 95 times higher than the hair of someone today, likely stemming from the goblets and glasses he drank out of, certain medical treatments of that age and, says Paul Jannetto, drinking wine."

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony features the kinds of details that paint a cumulative picture of an artist rigorously engaged with his work, even as practical necessities and unforeseen pressures work on his psyche. For instance, in the chapter, Early Thoughts about a Symphony No. 9, Albreacht tells us,

Beethoven had been thinking about and even jotting occasional ideas for a Symphony No. 9 since the Scheide Sketchbook, probably in the first half of 1815; but then his brother Carl died on November 15, 1815, leaving the composer as the contested guardian of his nephew Karl (born September 4, 1806). Since then, Beethoven had busied himself not only with the care of Karl but also with a renewed study of the counterpoint of Johann Sebastian Bach and George Frideric Handel and with composing a number of contrapuntal and motivically exploratory piano sonatas, leading to his current work (nearing completion) on the Missa solemnis and the Diabelli Variations.

One feels the extraordinary emotional requirements involved with getting work done and marvels at the depths of his inspiration and devil's drive.

If things like this are going on at the rehearsals in the theater, then it's no wonder that opera performances aren't always the best either. // They [the singers] regard these rehearsals only as a good time, where people come together in order to entertain themselves. -Beethoven

Albrecht gives us a taste of Beethoven's anxieties, as the premiere approached immanency. The composer was not happy in general with the attitude of his chorus, and just a couple of days before the premiere was broodful:

Beethoven probably complained to Karl about the way the chorus acted during rehearsal, and he replied in the affirmative: "If things like this are going on at the rehearsals in the theater, then it's no wonder that opera performances aren't always the best either. // They [the singers] regard these rehearsals only as a good time, where people come together in order to entertain themselves. // I don't believe anything about intrigues; but their custom of behaving this way at rehearsals also appears to have become apparent here. // I find it negligent that the girls [Unger and Sontag] have not studied their parts.

Girls just wanna have fun, my ar*e, he seemed to steam.

Albrecht's biography details how difficult it was for Beethoven to even get to a premiere of the symphony. He writes, "Beethoven undertook the Viennese premiere " against almost impossible odds. All of his earlier symphonies had had at least partial financial support from various patrons to rent a hall, copy parts, and hold reading-rehearsals and even multiple public performances." But by the time he reached the Ninth in his career almost all his major patrons and financiers had died or lost interest.

In addition to his impoverishment, Albrecht details other potentially catastrophic hindrances that would have waylaid a lesser spirit. Vienna, at that time, was filled with Rossini worshippers who loved his comic operas. Brooding was frowned upon. He considered relocating the premiere to Berlin. But he couldn't leave Vienna. "The task was impossible," writes Albrecht, "and yet it had to be undertaken. For Beethoven as concert-giver it would be like starting anew in [this] city where he had lived for over 30 years."

The hurdles that Beethoven faced in the lead-up to the premiere -- and afterward -- make one wonder how the symphony or his legacy survived. Albrecht supplies details in the Preface:

There was an inadequate performance after only two rehearsals; the Imperial box of the theater was insultingly empty; Beethoven looked like a disheveled genius at the premiere; cheers from the audience were unfairly suppressed by the police; and Beethoven earned unexpectedly small profits from the May 7 concert and its May 23 varied repeat.

It was grim and the Reaper was creeping up on him.

Albrecht chronicles some of the tension that has grown around the picture of the composer drawn by Anton Schindler, Beethoven's first contemporary biographer. "Schindler and his writings have come under severe, even vicious critical scrutiny that warrants attention here." He goes on to cite scathing rebukes of Schindler's reputation: "Schindler was perceived as immature, effeminate, arrogant, gossipy, and prone to hyperbole." Schindler had called Beethoven an anti-semite!

"There is no aspect of Beethoven in which you can say he was a great melodist, harmonist, contrapuntist, a tone painter, or orchestrater, if you take any of these elements separately, there's nobody." Leonard Bernstein

The great Jewish-born lyric poet, Heinrich Heine, whose family had "converted" to Christianity to escape persecution, called Schindler a homosexual (not cool to be back then). He dished on Schindler in French arts and letter mags and Albrecht notes the reaction: "'How could the great artist put up with such an unedifying, spiritually impoverished friend?' cried the French, who lost all patience with the monotonous chatter of this tiresome guest. They did not remember that Beethoven was deaf!" Schindler was de-listed and 'canceled' (in the parlance of our time). Heine would be canceled today. And deserve it. How dare he!

Another genius, Leonard Bernstein, succinctly summed up what Beethoven offered music lovers. He explains to Maximilian Schell in a teaching session Bernstein was renowned for, "There is no aspect of Beethoven in which you can say he was a great melodist, harmonist, contrapuntist, a tone painter, or orchestrater, if you take any of these elements separately, there's nobody." While you are catching your breath at this apostasy, Schell asks, what saves Beethoven from going to hell. Bernstein instructs,

In Beethoven's case form is all because it is a case of what note succeeds every other note, and in Beethoven's case it is always the right next note, as though he had some private telephone wire to heaven which told him what the next note had to be. No composer ever had that -- not even Mozart.

Elsewhere, Bernstein reflects on the motivation that led to Beethoven's upbeat finale and sees the conductor's vision of peace, war's cessation, globalized brotherhood. I like to compare the Ninth's finale with Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture with the later choral addition. Peace and War. Both emotionally overwrought. Probably best to start with Tchaikovsky. Unless you're into the whole Armageddon thing, then it's best to end with the 1812 bang-up.

The Albrecht book is a worthy primer for understanding the agony of an artist's creation leading up to the exposition of his masterwork. It has a copious collection of notes for those looking for drill-down details and value added treasures of thought. I highly recommend the book and another listen to the symphony. (Full Disclosure: One of my favorite takes on the Ninth is Wilhem Furtwangler's 1942 version -- the Chorale is to die for).

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Leonard Bernstein Discusses Beethoven's 9th Symphony.