Beethoven’s Triple Concerto:Themes and variations

15 May 2018: Holy Trinity Church, Stratford-upon-Avon
23 May 2018: Town Hall, Birmingham
25 May 2018: Town Hall, Cheltenham

• Ludwig van Beethoven – Overture, ‘Coriolan’, op62
• Ludwig van Beethoven – Triple Concerto for Piano, Violin and Cello in C major, op56
• Felix Mendelssohn – Symphony no4 ‘Italian’ in A major, op90

When we are immersed in a great novel, we may wonder just how much of the author, or the author’s life, can be read within it. Likewise with poetry – although this does have an innate tendency to be autobiographical. But with music – unless we have documentary evidence; or the composer has also penned its lyrics – it is much harder to fathom. Many though have seen (or heard) tonight’s overture as a self-portrait: despite its front-and-centre reference to the Roman leader Caius Marcius Coriolanus (or ‘Coriolan’, in German). With its occasional thematic reminders of the Fifth Symphony, written in the same year, 1807, there is no doubt that the work musically encompasses some form of desperate mental struggle. Whether that fight involves Beethoven facing his deafness; or the semi-legendary patrician as he matures from brute to peace-monger (under the onslaught of his mother’s and wife’s entreaties), is, though, solely for the listener to determine.

Notwithstanding, Mendelssohn’s marvellous symphony is definitely autobiographical: as we know, not only from the many letters he wrote to family and friends, but from the fact that it follows his well-recorded ‘grand tour’ around Europe – which included a lengthy period in Italy (as well as Scotland, of course)! Although it eventually closes in a minor key, there is little doubt of the happiness this journey brought its composer. The joyful music he wrote in response is (hopefully) truly infectious!

It is doubtful whether anything other than Beethoven’s innate genius attaches to the Triple Concerto, however; although the short central movement is extremely moving. Following the examples of Haydn’s and Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertantes – for violin, cello, oboe and bassoon; and oboe, clarinet, bassoon and horn; respectively – both performed by OOTS, last season – it contains some of its composer’s most awe-inspiring and enjoyable music. (It is a shame, therefore, that all three of these great composers’ concertos share another trait – that of underperformance – especially when placed side-by-side with this concert’s celebrated overture and symphony.)

Indubitably, though, it is music’s effect on the individual that is most meaningful. There is nothing wrong, therefore, with being cheered by Coriolanus’ fate (killed by his erstwhile allies, according to Shakespeare; nobly dying on his own sword, according to Heinrich Joseph von Collin – who supposedly influenced Beethoven); or with sobbing at the Saltarello which concludes the concert.

John Lill plays Beethoven:Themes and variations

19 January 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture ‘Don Giovanni’, K527
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no41 ‘Jupiter’ in C major, K551
• Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Concerto no3 in C minor, op37

This evening’s concert features – arguably – two of the greatest composers who ever lived: both with major works composed hastily during periods of significant trial and tribulation. Firstly, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – here in financial straits, after the failure of his latest opera; and possibly on the verge of depression – three years before his death and his final great outpourings. And then Ludwig van Beethoven, as he began to break free of his great idol’s influence to find his own voice: despite struggling to come to terms with the onset of deafness – especially the concomitant tinnitus.

Don Giovanni had been hailed a palpable hit at its first performance in Prague, in October 1787; but, just over six months later, in Vienna, a revised version met with failure. Facing this setback head-on, Mozart immediately began composing his three final, miraculous, symphonies: managing somehow to complete them in successive summer months.

The last of these – our second work, tonight – even in the light of its two remarkable symphonic companions, K543 and K550 – is utterly astonishing. It simply does not matter whether you consider ‘Jupiter’ the greatest symphony ever written (as I do) – or merely(!) the greatest symphony of one of the “greatest composers who ever lived” – it will always stand as an imposing, sunlit monument to the man and the genre. (Sadly, it seems unlikely that it was ever performed in Mozart’s lifetime.)

It is difficult not to consider Don Giovanni his greatest opera, as well (although his later “great outpouring”, Die Zauberflöte, K620 – certainly more successful in his lifetime; and more frequently performed, today – must also be a contender). The overture is rumoured to have been composed on the day of its first performance (29 October 1787). However, Mozart records the completion of the opera as the day before! Whatever the case, as with the symphony, there are absolutely no audible signs of such alacrity.

Only music from the pen of a composer of Beethoven’s stature could succeed such masterpieces: with a work also premiered in Vienna (in April 1803, alongside his first two symphonies) – however, yet again, to mixed reviews. This time, though, the score had not even been finalized: the composer, as soloist, playing reportedly from “nothing but empty pages [with] a few Egyptian hieroglyphs… scribbled down to serve as clues”!

Julian Bliss plays Weber:Themes and variations

25 October 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Gioachino Rossini – Overture, ‘The Barber of Seville’
• Carl Maria von Weber – Clarinet Concerto no2 in E-flat major, op74 (J114)
• Ludwig van Beethoven – Symphony no8 in F major, op93

All of this afternoon’s works were composed within three years of each other – Weber’s concerto first, in 1811; Rossini’s overture last, in 1813 (albeit originally for his earlier opera, Aureliano in Palmira) – and yet, stylistically, apart from their Classical structures, they have little in common. What they do share are a contagious joie de vivre and characteristic confidence: all three composers at the top of their game – which, considering Rossini was only twenty-one, and Weber twenty-four, demonstrates just how rapidly their brilliance ripened. All three composers knew of each other, too: Rossini and Weber both meeting Beethoven in Vienna, in 1822 and 1823, respectively (around the time he was completing his Missa Solemnis and the Choral Symphony).

Both of the younger composers were much saddened at seeing their idol so isolated by his deafness; but it seems Beethoven’s wicked sense of humour (so apparent in today’s symphony) was still to the fore. He said to Rossini – a backhanded compliment, if ever there was one – that The Barber of Seville was “an excellent opera buffa”; but that Rossini should “never try to do anything other than comic operas – to want to succeed in another style would force your nature”! (This was despite the success of ‘serious’ operas such as Tancredi, Otello, and Mosè in Egitto.) His final words, repeated as he saw Rossini out of his “dirty and frightfully disorderly attic”, being: “Above all, you must make more Barbers.”

Weber was perhaps more fortunate – “You’re a devil of a fellow!” – even though he had been publicly critical of some of Beethoven’s earlier compositions, including the Fourth Symphony. Beethoven had been deeply impressed by Der Freischütz, and was so astonished at its originality that – according to Weber’s son, Max – he struck the score with his hand, and exclaimed “I never would have thought it of the gentle little man”. When they parted, Beethoven – having “served [him] at table as if I had been his lady” – embraced and kissed him several times and cried: “Good luck to the new opera [Euryanthe]; if I can, I’ll come to the first performance!”

Although this afternoon’s music is still essentially Classical in nature – Beethoven resolutely recalling its glory years – all three are now seen as the founding fathers, or architects, of Romanticism (despite Rossini describing himself as “the last of the Classicists”). What a joy it is to have them all in the same room!

Mozart, meet Joanna Lee!Themes and variations

14 February 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
22 February 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture, ‘Bastien und Bastienne’, K50/46b
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Sinfonia Concertante for Four Winds in E-flat major, K297b
• Joanna Lee – Blue Blaze – Dance Suite [world premiere]
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no59 ‘Feuer’ in A major, Hob.I:59

I wonder how many potential tunes there are in the world – already written; or, as Elgar supposed, “in the air… all around us”? Given a set number of notes, there are obviously only, statistically, a finite number of sequences that can be developed. So, isn’t it truly amazing that, when performed – even if ‘recycled’ by other composers: either coincidentally, or in tribute – such melodies are not only recognizable (they strike a chord, if you will), but they also have the power to immediately lead you back to a single source?

For example: catching the opening theme of this concert, played out of context, many people in the audience would, I am sure, instantly call to mind Beethoven’s Eroica – although then wonder who had run off with those two monumental introductory thunderbolts (and why it was played in the wrong key and by the wrong instruments). Or maybe Wagner’s Das Rheingold…? (Although, there, as you might expect, its appearance is more lushly orchestrated.) This ‘fanfare’ – based on a major triad: thus readily playable on a natural (valveless) horn – also appears at the beginning of Brahms’ Second Symphony; and, according to George Grove (he of the musical dictionary), in his violin concerto, too – not to mention the Scherzo of Schubert’s ‘Great’ C major symphony; as well as Beethoven’s very own Hammerklavier sonata.

But hear it: and I’m pretty sure that it will be the latter’s Third Symphony that comes to mind; even though he was born two years after the overture – to singspiel, or comic opera, Bastien und Bastienne – was composed… by twelve-year-old Mozart: which is why all thoughts of Beethoven will quickly fade away. Even at this age, ‘Amadeus’ was displaying signature greatness.

By the way, the opera probably wasn’t performed publicly for another twenty-two years. But it is unlikely that Beethoven was present; or, if he was, that he would intentionally borrow something so pleasantly pastoral to signify ‘the heroic’.

Conceivably, the most amazing upshot, I think, is that this short tune serves both – indeed all – of its purposes extremely well. Because in none of the instances listed does it sound anything other than each composer’s own: perfectly pitched, perfectly scored. Maybe because, to paraphrase two other truly great musicians: “T’ain’t What You Write (It’s the Way That You Write It)”.