Breakthroughs into the extreme

Although the interpretative analysis of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas undoubtedly represents an absolute highlight in the life of any pianist, these exceptional compositions nevertheless require a superb technique, a highly personal commitment and an in-depth emotional analysis. On the one hand, to quote Hans von Bülow’s famous statement, the 32 Sonatas represent the “pianist’s New Testament” – which definitely complies with the emphatic, canonical impetus of the compositions. On the other hand, however, they can be regarded as an oeuvre in progress, i.e. with regard to their extremely individual and personal shaping of the basic model of the sonata.
It is almost impossible to comprehend Beethoven’s achievement in the creation of his piano sonatas. During the huge span of time between his Op. 2, dating from 1793-95, and his Op. 111, dating from 1821/22, he came up with no less than 32 “propositions” for compositional solutions, whose respective differences can be assessed as distinctive and radical. Alfred Brendel commented on the works: “Beethoven does not repeat himself in his sonatas. Each work, each movement is a new organism.” Beethoven approached the sonata form itself as a problem in both composition and technique, in the solution of which he would not permit himself any repetition – the respective differences between the thematic material made this an imperative. Consequently, the piano sonatas became an open forum for Beethoven’s experiments. In particular, the elements of the creative processes of composition are concentrated here as if in a burning glass, and can be seen in all their variety. Here, on his very own instrument – the piano – Beethoven experimented, discarded and developed his material. He set new standards, which in turn became the standards for generations to come.
The Sonata in E flat, Op. 7 dates from 1796/97, and was first published in 1797 in Vienna. Beethoven dedicated it to one of his pupils, the Countess Babette von Keglevich. The work occupies an important position among the piano sonatas, as demonstrated not only by the fact that it possesses its own individual opus number between the groups Op. 2 and Op. 10, but also by the title. For the first time, Beethoven uses the title Grande Sonata. And Op. 7 is without a doubt “grand”.
Apart from the Hammerklavier Sonata, Op. 106, this sonata is the longest in this genre: besides containing the greatest number of bars, it also takes most time to play. But if one ignores this background – which often detracts from the understanding of the essence of the composition –, forgets the rather clueless nickname Der Verliebte, and dedicates oneself to the music, then one is presented with the image of a masterpiece which is far ahead of its time. The Sonata Op. 7 offers a refreshing new starting point for a compositional solution to the problems of the finale. The solution is already to be found in the immense dimensions of the first movement, which is written in sonata form: the final movement is no longer capable of outdoing the virtuosity and the drama of such a first movement. And consequently, Beethoven deploys yet another type of finale in his sonata cycle with this gracious rondo. In its inner tranquillity and lyricism, this finale provides a balance to the motorial impetus, constantly propelling the music forward, which is so audible at the beginning of the sonata. In addition to these major innovations in form, it is also worthwhile taking a quick glance at the structure of the first movement. With his open style of shaping the main theme, Beethoven transferred the actual thematic-motivic material of the development and presented it already in the exposition, thus shifting the basic emphasis within the sonata movement.
The Sonata in C minor, Op. 13 represents the first major peak in Beethoven’s sonata composition. It dates from 1798/99 and was first published in Vienna in 1799. The work, which he dedicated to his patron and friend Prince Carl von Lichnovsky, bears the title “Grande Sonata Pathétique”, chosen by the composer himself.
In the first movement already, Beethoven enters into absolute no-man’s land with a 10-bar grave introduction, derived from the tradition of the symphony. This returns at important cornerstones within the movement – i.e. at the beginning of the development and before the Coda – and provides a strong contrast to the pressing and aggressive gesturing of the main part of the Allegro di molto e con brio. This dialectic consists of slow and fast segments and determines both the structure and the content of the first movement. Like a signal, Beethoven links dramatic effects to individual experiences: crashing, chromatically descending scales, diminished seventh chords and wild octave tremolos dominate the musical scene.
Following the dramatic beginning of the work, the song-like Adagio offers both pianist and audience pure relaxation: it is an “oasis of hymnic serenity” (Kinderman) in the key of A flat.
The lyrical melody soars upwards from the middle to the high register, supported by a contrapuntal bass line and harmonic swirls.
In the Rondo-Finale, which demonstrates a clear dependency on the main sonata-movement form, the vacillation between doubt and hope is clearly recognizable, until an abruptly descending triad energetically and relentlessly wipes away all expectations.
The Sonata in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2, is chronologically the last of the three sonatas recorded here. Together with its sister work in E-flat, Op. 27 No. 1, it dates from 1800/01 and was first published a year later in Vienna. Beethoven dedicated the C-sharp minor work to the Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, whom he greatly admired. Both Op. 27 Sonatas are subtitled “quasi una fantasia”. Beethoven’s decision to fuse fantasia and sonata here allowed him to greatly expand the formal structure of the work, while nevertheless at the same time closely establishing the network between the individual movements. As does the Sonata in E-flat, Op. 7 discussed above, Beethoven’s so-called “Mondscheinsonate” (= Moonlight Sonata; Ludwig Rellstab’s title is equally ineradicable and inappropriate for the work) has the honour of representing a further innovative approach to his concept of the sonata. The first movement (Adagio sostenuto) no longer keeps to the main sonata-movement form: it remains a slow movement with an unusually undecided structure. Whereas during his first creative phase, Beethoven seeks to provide the first movement with an evenly matched counterpart in the Finale, thus he accepts the challenge here of working out a development which is oriented towards the Finale.
Continuous quaver triplets on top of octaves in the bass provide support, and counterbalance the melancholy melody. The open structure demonstrates how close it comes to being an improvisation. The middle movement –
a pithy Allegretto – follows on attacca. Franz Liszt described this lyrical mood piece as a “flower between two abysses”. An intermezzo before the Presto-Finale – the objective of the entire musical development – makes its entrance, forging ahead vehemently. In the main key, the broken triads of the first movement reappear in altered form as aggressive “sound-chains” with the ensuing blows of the chords. The intensity of expression of this finale exceeds anything so far written by Beethoven. He constructs a virtually orchestral sound-world, before concluding the work in apocalyptic fashion with an improvisatory, extended cadenza.