{"id":378,"date":"2014-02-27T01:32:06","date_gmt":"2014-02-27T08:32:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/?page_id=378"},"modified":"2020-03-16T10:37:56","modified_gmt":"2020-03-16T17:37:56","slug":"378-2","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/?page_id=378","title":{"rendered":"Beethoven, Ludwig van: Op. 110, Piano Sonata No. 31 in A flat Major"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The power and greatness of Beethoven\u2019s compostions changed much as as he (in his mid-forties) grew toward a \u2018late\u2019 period. By 1815, there was little to be found of the public rallying in the \u2018Eroica\u2019 Symphony, and little of the spaciousness of the \u2018Pastoral\u2019 Symphony; there was also little of the pure energy of the Op. 18 String Quartets, or the bright, exploratory impulse of the Op. 59 string quartets. Instead, there were the moods of a man, functionally deaf, once a pianist, alone. In this late phase, Beethoven wrote perplexing and wonderful string quartets. He wrote his ninth symphony. He wrote a <i>Missa Solemnis<\/i>. And he wrote piano sonatas, exploring the strange topography of mind and soul at the piano. The piano sonatas are willful, complicated, abstract, simple, incomplete, heart-rending, awful, playful, and sublime. To have the kind of compositional power Beethoven owned throughout his career aimed inward by deafness is quite terrible to imagine. But he also was released from the normal gravitation of both musical conventions and public life.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/gesang.png\"><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-379\" src=\"http:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/gesang-300x95.png\" alt=\"gesang\" width=\"300\" height=\"95\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/gesang-300x95.png 300w, https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/gesang.png 600w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>In his late period, though, he did gravitate toward ancient music, and found there much to center his thoughts around. Since Beethoven was writing his <i>Missa Solemnis<\/i>, he had probably been looking to Bach\u2019s choral works for models, and in the piano sonata Op. 110 he includes a quotation (and a heavy one at that) of the aria \u2018Es ist vollbracht\u2019 (\u2018It is finished\u2019) from the St. John Passion. There is nothing hidden about it, it is marked as an \u2018arioso dolente\u2019 (pictured), and preceded with an unmistakeable <i>recitative<\/i> cadence. The arioso is first followed by a strange, strict fugue (more ancient music&#8230;), and then reappears altered. It is again followed (after bell sounds) by the same fugue, but upside down and \u2018nach und nach wieder auflebend\u2019 (which indicates both \u2018more lively\u2019 and \u2018again living\u2019).<\/p>\n<p>The message of this reflection on Bach, while hard to state explicitly, has clearly to do with his own sense of \u2018late\u2019-ness. That\u2019s not all there is to the sonata, by any means: there\u2019s much distance between the first two movements, which can be (knowingly) simplistic and brusque, and the clearly existential direction of the <i>arioso-fuga<\/i> area. And that distance is also central to the piece, though it is somewhat harder to name and describe. But thoughts on Bach are near the core of the sonata\u2019s matters, providing focus (thankfully external) for a composer who is clearly, and intentionally, wandering wherever his willful will will take him.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The power and greatness of Beethoven\u2019s compostions changed much as as he (in his mid-forties) grew toward a \u2018late\u2019 period. By 1815, there was little to be found of the public rallying in the \u2018Eroica\u2019 Symphony, and little of the spaciousness of the \u2018Pastoral\u2019 Symphony; there was also little of the pure energy of the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":21,"menu_order":49,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/378"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=378"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/378\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":492,"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/378\/revisions\/492"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/21"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.timsummers.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=378"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}