Chapter 14

NINTH SYMPHONY

We stand to-day before the Beethovenian Symphony as before the landmark of an entirely new period in the history of universal art, for through it there came into the world a phenomenon not even remotely approached by anything the art of any age or any people has to show us. --WAGNER.

During the period of his work on the Mass, and for some time before, Beethoven's thoughts were occupied more or less with that stupendous work, the Ninth Symphony, sketches for which began to appear already in 1813, shortly after his meeting with Goethe. That Beethoven looked up to Goethe ever after as to a spiritual mentor, studying his works, absorbing his thought, is plain. In projecting this symphony he may very well have designed it as a counterpart to Faust, as has been suggested. Actually begun in 1817, it had to be laid aside before much had been accomplished on it, in favor of the Mass in D. This gave him plenty of time to mature his conception of the work; and this ripening process, covering a period of ten years from its first inception, was one of the factors which helped him achieve his wondrous result. His work on the Mass was a good preparation for the psychological problems expounded in the Symphony.

Here is a work so interwoven into Beethoven's very life and spirit, that the mention of his name at once calls to mind the Ninth Symphony. It is the work of the seer approaching the end of his life-drama, giving with photographic clearness a résumé of it. Here are revelations of the inner nature of a man who had delved deeply into the mysteries surrounding life, learning this lesson in its fullest significance, that no great spiritual height is ever attained without renunciation. The world must be left behind. Asking and getting but little from it, giving it of his best, counting as nothing its material advantages, realizing always that contact with it had for him but little joy, the separation from it was nevertheless a hard task. This mystery constantly confronted Beethoven, that, even when obeying the finer behests of his nature, peace was not readily attained thereby; often there was instead, an accession of unhappiness for the time being. Paradoxically peace was made the occasion for a struggle; it had to be wrested from life. No victory is such unless well fought for and dearly bought.

This eternal struggle with fate, this conflict forever raging in the heart, runs through all the Symphonies, but nowhere is it so strongly depicted as in this, his last. We have here in new picturing, humanity at bay, as in the recently completed Kyrie of the grand mass. The apparently uneven battle of the individual with fate,--the plight of the human being who finds himself a denizen of a world with which he is entirely out of harmony, who, wrought up to despair, finds life impossible yet fears to die,--is here portrayed in dramatic language. To Wagner the first movement pictured to him "the idea of the world in its most terrible of lights," something to recoil from. "Beethoven in the Ninth Symphony," he says, "leads us through the torment of the world relentlessly until the ode to joy is reached."

Great souls have always taught that the only relief for this _Weltschmerz_ is through the power of love; that universal love alone can transform and redeem the world. This is the central teaching of Jesus, of Buddha, of all who have the welfare of humanity at heart. It was Beethoven's solution of the problem of existence. Through this magic power, sorrows are transmuted into gifts of peace and happiness. Beethoven loved his kind. Love for humanity, pity for its misfortunes, hope for its final deliverance, largely occupied his mind. With scarcely an exception Beethoven's works end happily. Among the sketches of the last movement of the Mass in D, he makes the memorandum, "Stärke der Gesinnungen des innern Friedens. Über alles ... Sieg." (Strengthen the conviction of inward peace. Above all--Victory). The effect of the Choral Finale is that of an outburst of joy at deliverance, a celebration of victory. It is as if Beethoven, with prophetic eye, had been able to pierce the future and foresee a golden age for humanity, an age where altruism was to bring about cessation from strife, and where happiness was to be general. Such happiness as is here celebrated in the Ode to Joy, can indeed, only exist in the world through altruism. Pity,[B] that sentiment which allies man to the divine, comes first. From this proceeds love, and through these and by these only is happiness possible. This was the gist of Beethoven's thought. He had occupied himself much with sociological questions all his life, always taking the part of the oppressed.

[B] The German rendering _Mitleid_ has a higher significance than its English equivalent. Literally it means sharing the sorrow of the afflicted one. It may be said in passing that this sentiment is the central idea in Parsifal.

Schindler, who was almost constantly with Beethoven at this time, tells of the difficulty the master experienced in finding a suitable way of introducing the choral part. He finally hit upon the naïve device of adding words of his own in the form of a recitative, which first appears in the sketch-book as, "Let us sing the immortal Schiller's Song, 'Freude schöner Götterfunken.'" This was afterward changed to the much better form as now appears, "O Freunde, nicht diese Töne! sondern lasst uns angenehmere anstimmen, und freudenvollere." (O friends, not these tones. Let us sing a strain more cheerful, more joyous.)

The whole character and design of the Ode to Joy will be better apprehended when it is stated that it is in reality an Ode to Freedom. With its revolutionary spirit Beethoven was entirely in accord. Already in his twenty-third year he contemplated setting it to music. Later, in the note-book of 1812, the first line of the poem appears, in connection with a scheme for an overture. It is worthy of remark that the Symphony was well under way before he decided on incorporating the Ode in it.

The Ninth Symphony was first performed in this country in 1846 in Castle Garden, by the New York Philharmonic Society, which had been organized four years previously. George Loder conducted it. When we consider the herculean efforts Wagner was obliged to make to get permission to perform it in Dresden in this selfsame year, it speaks well for "North America." Subsequent performances of it in New York by this Society are as follows:

PERFORMANCE CONDUCTOR

Second April 28, 1860 Theo. Eisfeld. Third April 29, 1865 " " Fourth February 1, 1868 C. Bergmann. Fifth April 28, 1877 Dr. L. Damrosch. Sixth February 12, 1881 Theo. Thomas. Seventh April 10, 1886 " " Eighth April 12, 1890 " " Ninth April 23, 1892 Anton Seidl. Tenth April 11, 1896 " " Eleventh April 2, 1898 Vander Stucken. Twelfth April 7, 1900 E. Paur. Thirteenth April 4, 1902 " "

It was not performed in New York during the years 1903 and 1904.

Beethoven's correspondence with Count Brühl of the Berlin Theatre in the matter of an opera for that city, led him, owing to the apathy of the Vienna public at this time toward his works, to offer the new Symphony and the Mass for a first hearing in Berlin. At this time, and for some years previously, Rossini's music had captured the Vienna public so completely that no other was desired. That this light evanescent work should be preferred to his own, was resented by the master. He decided to offer the new works to Count Brühl, the Italian craze not having yet penetrated Berlin. As soon as this became known however, a reaction followed, and a memorial was addressed to Beethoven by his friends, begging him to reconsider the matter, and produce the new works in Vienna, as well as write a new opera for them. The appeal was signed by thirty of the most prominent men of affairs in the city. The list of names is a noble one, each being prominently connected in some way with music. Among composers and performers may be mentioned Czerny and the Abbe Stadler. Artario & Co., Diabelli and Leidersdorf, were music publishers. Count Palfy and Sonnleithner were operatic managers, while counselor Kiesewetter and J.F. Costelli were authors of libretti and songs. The others were prominent in court circles, and their devotion to music was such as to give weight to the communication. The memorial itself is discursive to a point which taxes one's patience, but the expressions of appreciation and friendship are genuine, and must have gratified Beethoven extremely. Naturally but one outcome was probable as a result of this memorial. Shortly after receiving it, he announced to his friends that the initial performance of these works would be held in Vienna. Strangely, a difficulty at once arose, in the matter of selecting a suitable place for the performance. Had Beethoven left the management of the affair in the hands of his friends, and given his attention to securing sufficient rehearsals for the new Symphony, which finally had to be produced after being rehearsed twice only, it would have been better all around. With the vacillating disposition which characterized him in all business matters, he was not only of no aid, but so complicated matters by his indecision on every point, that the arrangements finally came to a standstill, his friends who were assisting him being at their wits' end. These were Schindler, Count Lichnowsky, and the violinist Schuppanzich. At this juncture, these old and tried friends, thinking that strategy might succeed where diplomacy had failed, hit upon the following plan to bring matters to a focus. Schindler was at this time living at Beethoven's house, and the plan decided on was to have Count Lichnowsky and Schuppanzich call there as if by accident. The conversation would naturally turn to the approaching concert and leading questions were to be asked Beethoven. His answers in these years were usually in writing. The gist of these was to be written out by one of the party, who would then carelessly, or as if in jest, ask Beethoven to sign the paper, thus committing him to a definite course. These praise-worthy intentions were carried out with so much tact and skill that Beethoven not only saw through their innocent ruse, but discovered in the whole proceeding a deep-laid plot on the part of these arch-conspirators, whereof he was to be the victim of villainy and treachery. This dawned on him shortly after the friends had taken their departure, upon which he wrote the following notes, leaving them on the piano as was his custom, for Schindler to deliver.

TO THE COUNT MORITZ VON LICHNOWSKY,-- I despise these artifices, visit me no more. Academy (the concert) will not take place. BEETHOVEN.

TO M. SCHINDLER,-- Do not come near me again until I send for you. No Academy. BEETHOVEN.

TO M. SCHUPPANZICH,-- Do not visit me again. No concert. BEETHOVEN.

From the above it will readily be seen, as Schindler plaintively asserts, that the office of friend to Beethoven was no sinecure. But he appreciated the advantage of living in the reflected glory of the great master, and such tact as he possessed was brought to bear, to continue the relations of friend, counsellor and general factotum, which were maintained to the end. Beethoven at times spoke slightingly in his letters of his humble follower, but there is no doubt that Schindler was of great service to him, and that this was appreciated by the master is equally true. Schindler did not deliver the letters just quoted, and the affair did not sever the relations of the parties concerned.

Beethoven's contention all along was for an advance in price of admission to the concert, owing to the heavy expense for theatre hire, copying, etc. As the works to be performed had not yet been published, it was necessary to copy out the separate parts for the members of the orchestra and chorus,--an immense task. The manager objected to any advance in prices, and insisted also that the concert be held on a subscription night--a good arrangement for the patrons of the theatre who would thus have free admission, but a bad one for the master. He finally had to submit, however. "After these six weeks' squabbling," he writes to Schindler toward the end of April, "I feel absolutely boiled, stewed and roasted," a state of mind brought about by his conflict with copyists, managers and performers.

The concert which took place on May 7, 1824, was the occasion for great enthusiasm. The programme consisted of the Overture Weihe des Hauses, as well as the Kyrie, Credo and Agnus Dei of the Mass in D, and the Ninth Symphony. The solo parts were taken by Madame Sontag and Fräulein Unger, who protested more than once at the unsingable nature of some of the parts in the Choral Finale when practising them at Beethoven's house.

The applause from the very beginning was phenomenal. The people became vociferous on seeing him, and this enthusiasm was continued throughout the evening. At the close of the performance the demonstrations became, if possible, more forcible than before, owing, perhaps, to the fact that Beethoven maintained his former position, facing the orchestra and with his back to the audience, as if unaware of the applause. At last Fräulein Unger turned him about so that he could see the demonstrations of the audience. The picture is presented of excited masses of people carried away by the emotions of the moment, rending the air with boisterous applause, and in the midst this great one, unresponsive to the homage showered on him, unconscious, seeing visions, perhaps planning a Tenth Symphony.

Beethoven's deafness was not total. He was no doubt able to hear some of this extraordinary applause, and, in any event, must have known that it would be forthcoming. He had probably become wearied with it all, and let his thoughts go far afield. The utter vanity of this kind of thing must often occur to great minds at such a time. These frenzied people by their very actions showed their inability to comprehend his work, and could not confer honor in this manner.

But the enthusiasm of the audience had the practical effect of leading the manager to make an offer to Beethoven for another concert, guaranteeing him five hundred florins ($250). It was held on May 23, at noon. On this occasion all of the Mass but the Kyrie was omitted, some Italian music being substituted. The house was only half filled at the second concert and the management lost money. Beethoven's apprehensions as to the profits from the first concert were well founded. He made less than two hundred dollars from the undertaking, and was so disappointed with this pitiful result after all the work of preparation, that he refused to eat any supper, and would not go to bed, but remained on a couch with his clothes on for the night. When he learned that the management lost eight hundred florins on the occasion of the second concert, it was with difficulty that he could be prevailed on to accept the amount guaranteed him. It is not likely that this reluctance was owing to any consideration for the manager, but rather to umbrage at the course of things in general. His temper was not improved by these disappointments, and he even charged Schindler with having conspired with the manager to cheat him. This led to a rupture between the two of several months' duration. Beethoven at length called on Schindler and apologized for the offence, begging him to forget it, upon which the old relations were restored.

Notwithstanding that Beethoven had personally solicited the attendance of the members of the Imperial family, and had promises from some of them, not one came, the Emperor's box being the only empty space in the theatre. The slight was no doubt intentional, and affords the last instance of which there is record, of the lifelong contest waged between Beethoven and the court. He was usually the aggressor, making it impossible for the Imperial family to favor him, or even to show him much attention. They could not have been insensible to the historical importance of having in their midst such a man; they must have had the prescience to know that Beethoven's achievements, if furthered by them, would place them in the lime-light for the admiration of future ages; but they were thwarted by the man himself, who went out of his way more than once, most unjustifiably, to offend them.

There is a letter from Count Dietrichstein, court chamberlain, on the subject of a mass which Beethoven was invited to write for the Emperor, which is unintentionally humorous. In it, all sorts of suggestions are made as to the style of the music, the length of the mass (it being enjoined on him that the Emperor did not like long church services) and other like stipulations. Beethoven's remarks in answer to this letter are not recorded, but the mass was not written. Here was a case where kingly prerogative did not avail.

Simultaneously with the appearance in the sketch-books of motives for the Ninth Symphony, another is projected, as was the case when composing his previous ones, which generally appeared in pairs, as already noted. A wealth of ideas flowed in on him while engaged on any great work, much of which, when not available for the one, could be utilized on the other. While working on the Mass in D, he had in mind composing another mass, as is evidenced by the following memorandum in the sketches of the Agnus Dei: "Das Kyrie in der neuen Messe bloss mit blasenden Instrumenten und Orgel." (The Kyrie in the new Mass only with wind instruments and organ.) The new Symphony was to be religious in character, and was projected on a broader scale even than the Ninth. A memorandum on the subject of the Tenth Symphony appears in the sketch-books of the latter part of the year 1818. It is as follows: "The orchestra (violins, etc.) to be increased tenfold, for the last movements, the voices to enter one by one. Or the Adagio to be in some manner repeated in the last movements. In the Allegro, a Bacchic festival."[C] His labors, however, on the Mass and Ninth Symphony had so exhausted him that no strength was left for this great work, and no part of it was even drafted. Later he thought to substitute a shorter work, something which would not have taxed him so much physically. He then makes the memorandum, "also instead of a new Symphony, an overture on Bach." Sehr fugirt (greatly fugued.)

[C] Nottebohm's _Zweite Beethoveniana_.

Now that the concerts were over and summer approaching, Beethoven's thoughts turned to the country. A comfortable house was secured for him at Schoenbrun on the bank of the river, but his stay here was short. A bridge near the house made it possible to obtain a good view of the master, and it soon got to be the custom for people to station themselves on it and watch for his appearance. He stood the ordeal for three weeks, and then fled to his beloved Baden, where he appears to have been safe from such annoyances.