The Symphony In Beethoven S Vienna

The status of Beethoven's symphonies is ingrained in Western culture, but very little is known about the environment in which the composer wrote them. David Wyn Jones explores the symphonies of other composers of the time together with the patterns of musical life in Vienna that helped shape the destiny of the symphony. This original study will be of interest to Beethoven enthusiasts and those interested in exploring the reality behind the image of Vienna as a deeply supportive musical city.

When Ludwig van Beethoven chose singers for the first performance of his last symphony he did so for reasons other than their voices; he could not hear them. Karoline Unger, the alto soloist, is an ardent admirer of the great composer, despite his ferocious temper and lack of social graces. She begs for the opportunity to be part of the premiere. Relying on her reputation as a singer and being fond of the company of an attractive young woman, he consents. The logistics of the performance are nearly impossible. Beethoven wants an extraordinarily large number of musicians on stage. Sections from a recently written Mass are also on the program, which causes problems with the Catholic Church. Beethoven wants to direct the concert but, being unable to hear the music, it is impossible for the orchestra and chorus to follow him. The music itself is extremely difficult; the musicians all complain and some even abandon the effort. Beethoven himself has not performed for the Viennese in a dozen years and has serious doubts about their reaction to his music. Is he still their beloved adopted son? Through all of these trials and tribulations, Karoline stuggles to remain loyal to Beethoven and the lofty ideals he intended to illustrate with his final symphony. Her abilities as a musician come into question and attempts at sabotage are made against her. This is a story of loves triumph over adversity. It is Karolines story.

A presentation of the history of Beethoven's fifth symphony, one of the most popular and well-known compositions in all of European classical music, and one of the most often-played symphonies.

The premier of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in Vienna on May 7, 1824, was the most significant artistic event of the year—and the work remains one of the most precedent-shattering and influential compositions in the history of music. Described in vibrant detail by eminent musicologist Harvey Sachs, this symbol of freedom and joy was so unorthodox that it amazed and confused listeners at its unveiling—yet it became a standard for subsequent generations of creative artists, and its composer came to embody the Romantic cult of genius. In this unconventional, provocative book, Beethoven’s masterwork becomes a prism through which we may view the politics, aesthetics, and overall climate of the era. Part biography, part history, part memoir, The Ninth brilliantly explores the intricacies of Beethoven’s last symphony—how it brought forth the power of the individual while celebrating the collective spirit of humanity.

“[Beethoven’s] music never grows old— and, enjoyed alongside Mr. Lockwood’s expert commentary, it sparkles with fresh magic.”—Wall Street Journal More than any other composer, Beethoven left to posterity a vast body of material that documents the early stages of almost everything he wrote. From this trove of sketchbooks, Lewis Lockwood draws us into the composer’s mind, unveiling a creative process of astonishing scope and originality. For musicians and nonmusicians alike, Beethoven’s symphonies stand at the summit of artistic achievement, loved today as they were two hundred years ago for their emotional cogency, variety, and unprecedented individuality. Beethoven labored to complete nine of them over his lifetime—a quarter of Mozart’s output and a tenth of Haydn’s—yet no musical works are more iconic, more indelibly stamped on the memory of anyone who has heard them. They are the products of an imagination that drove the composer to build out of the highest musical traditions of the past something startlingly new. Lockwood brings to bear a long career of studying the surviving sources that yield insight into Beethoven’s creative work, including concept sketches for symphonies that were never finished. From these, Lockwood offers fascinating revelations into the historical and biographical circumstances in which the symphonies were composed. In this compelling story of Beethoven’s singular ambition, Lockwood introduces readers to the symphonies as individual artworks, broadly tracing their genesis against the backdrop of political upheavals, concert life, and their relationship to his major works in other genres. From the first symphonies, written during his emerging deafness, to the monumental Ninth, Lockwood brings to life Beethoven’s lifelong passion to compose works of unsurpassed beauty.

Leading scholars re-evaluate the opposition between Beethoven and Rossini, the great symbolic duo of early nineteenth-century music.

It was Carl Dahlhaus who coined the phrase ’dead time’ to describe the state of the symphony between Schumann and Brahms. Christopher Fifield argues that many of the symphonies dismissed by Dahlhaus made worthy contributions to the genre. He traces the root of the problem further back to Beethoven’s ninth symphony, a work which then proceeded to intimidate symphonists who followed in its composer's footsteps, including Schubert, Mendelssohn and Schumann. In 1824 Beethoven set a standard that then had to rise in response to more demanding expectations from both audiences and the musical press. Christopher Fifield, who has a conductor’s intimacy with the repertory, looks in turn at the five decades between the mid-1820s and mid-1870s. He deals only with non-programmatic works, leaving the programme symphony to travel its own route to the symphonic poem. Composers who lead to Brahms (himself a reluctant symphonist until the age of 43 in 1876) are frequently dismissed as epigones of Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Schumann but by investigating their symphonies, Fifield reveals their respective brands of originality, even their own possible influence upon Brahms himself and in so doing, shines a light into a half-century of neglected nineteenth century German symphonic music.

Reveals how the culture and repertoire of the early Viennese ballroom permeated and intersected with other areas of musical life.