In 1802, Lou had written a suicide note known to history as the Heiligenstadt Testament. Beethoven’s deafness had been slowly encroaching on him, and he now understood that his condition would never improve but only worsen. Had he pulled the trigger at age 32, he would have been remembered as the composer of two symphonies, three piano concertos, six string quartets and a lot of sonatas for various instruments. It would have been a decent legacy, and the book on Beethoven would have been that he’d had great potential but didn’t quite live up to it. The only thing that kept Lou going was his art – and his art was about to make a quantum leap.
In 1804, Lou finally returned to the piano sonata. His new piece, the Piano Sonata in C, Op. 53, is known as the Waldstein Sonata because of its dedication. It’s in three movements, although the slow second movement is marked as an introduction to the rondo finale, which would make it a two-movement piece. The balance was changing in Lou’s output. The first movement of a sonata would no longer be the heart of the piece. Now it would be the finale. He was aiming for a new simplicity, where that simplicity would disguise great art.
The first movement is marked allegro con brio, “quick with enthusiasm”, one of Lou’s favorite markings, in 4/4 time. It requires the pianist to play rapidly in the bass register very quietly, which is quite difficult. It either comes out too loud or the articulation is sloppy. I asked pianist Adam Neiman, a fellow Ayn Rand fan, how to get that effect, and he suggested brushing the keys with the fingers rather than striking them. It works, but you have to get it just right or it comes out too loud. This is not an easy piece! There is also the shock of the new. From the first bars, it is clear that this is a different Beethoven.
The first subject leads into tremendous tonal instability, which is something you would expect in a development section. At 1:35, he brings in his second subject, not in the expected key of G Major, but the remote key of E Major.
At 3:08, he repeats the exposition.
At 5:38, it’s development time. This is a sizeable development, and if you think the tonal instability in the transitional passage in the exposition was something, wait until you hear this. Having worked over the first subject, Lou works over the transitional passage and manages to avoid working over the second subject. Using the key of G Major, he builds up to his recapitulation.
At 7:34, you breathe a sigh of relief as he resolves the tension by recapping in the tonic key of C Major.
His transitional passage should bead to the second subject in C Major, but he opts instead for the remote key of A Major – you think! But this is all just a ruse. A Major leads to A minor and now to C Major. We’re home at last.
But not for long! At 10:17, he begins his coda in the remote key of D-flat Major, a half tone up from the tonic, a key shift known as the “Neapolitan”. This is a very long and tonally unstable coda. He stops it cold, brings back the second subject in C Major sweetly, and then takes the first subject into a bravura ending that sounds a bit forced.
His second movement is in F Major, 6/8 time and is marked adagio molto, “very slowly”. It’s labeled as an introduction, rather than as a movement proper. It’s short on paper, but sounds long because of its speed. It has the sound of the opera house about it, a cross between a recitative and an aria. Settling carefully into C Major, it moves without interruption into the finale.
This is the heart of the sonata, a movement of almost ethereal beauty and utter simplicity. It’s a rondo marked allegretto moderato, “a bit quick and moderate”, in 2/4 time. The left hand crosses over the right to play the theme in the far treble.
There is a dark move into A minor, but the sun comes out in C Major as the first theme repeats.
It gets dark again as he shifts to C minor. He reprises the theme in A-flat and works his way slowly back to C for the first theme at 22:00. He cadences in G and then does something amazing. He winds it down, perhaps to a quiet end, but then...
...he goes off into a long coda in 2/2, marked prestissimo, “like a bat out of hell.” He changes key with abandon and finishes with a fine bravura end.
This is a 1977 video of the late Chilean pianist Claudio Arrau, who is one of my favorite Beethoven interpreters.
I have not read the previous posts, so I’m not sure what you were attempting to get across, nevertheless, I found it fascinating.
What I took from it was, never settle for the excuses of mediocrity, or..coulda, shoulda, woulda, should never replace....did it.
I know that sounds simplistic, but I can not always put into words what I wish to express.