This is the letter Beethoven wrote to the poet who wrote the poem for which Beethoven set his song:
Vienna, August 4, 1800.
MOST ESTEEMED FRIEND,–
You will receive with this one of my compositions published some years since, and yet, to my shame, you probably have never heard of it. I cannot attempt to excuse myself, or to explain why I dedicated a work to you which came direct from my heart, but never acquainted you with its existence, unless indeed in this way, that at first I did not know where you lived, and partly also from diffidence, which led me to think I might have been premature in dedicating a work to you before ascertaining that you approved of it. Indeed, even now I send you “Adelaide” with a feeling of timidity. You know yourself what changes the lapse of some years brings forth in an artist who continues to make progress; the greater the advances we make in art, the less are we satisfied with our works of an earlier date. My most ardent wish will be fulfilled if you are not dissatisfied with the manner in which I have set your heavenly “Adelaide” to music, and are incited by it soon to compose a similar poem; and if you do not consider my request too indiscreet, I would ask you to send it to me forthwith, that I may exert all my energies to approach your lovely poetry in merit. Pray regard the dedication as a token of the pleasure which your “Adelaide” conferred on me, as well as of the appreciation and intense delight your poetry always has inspired, and always will inspire in me.
When playing “Adelaide,” sometimes recall
Your sincere admirer,
BEETHOVEN.
—————
Banff is beautiful, albeit cold. This song touches just the tendermost part of a heart – especially that it comes from Beethoven!
This concert proved to be such an overwhelming inspiration! I absolutely enjoyed every bit of it.
I really wanted to attend this concert when I saw that Steven Isserlis was coming, and they would be performing the Ravel piano trio among others – and I knew then and there I could not miss this concert. Of course, Poulenc cello sonata and Janácek violin sonata were pieces I would like to hear live at a concert as well. Also on the programme were Liszt’s own transcription for cello and piano: Romance oubliée and La Lugubre Gondola (which, if I remember correctly, was on the funeral of Wagner). Ending the first half was a US premier of Thomas Adès’s own piece for cello and sonata Lieux retrouvés (on new music, I can almost always say it’s less about how good the piece is, but how great the performers are and how committed they are to bring it alive – that is not to say this piece was not a good piece, because I loved it).
I can’t say I’m a big fan of Janácek, but Anthony Marwood’s interpretation was enjoyable and understandable. (Perhaps it’s just me, but the first time ever I heard him play was him on the violin with his Florestan trio playing Brahms Op.8; and I couldn’t help but to always feel his sound was Brahmsian during this concert.. ). Then, Steven Isserlis came on the stage with that familiar mushroom-looking hair and comical personality (to me, at least). Then, the first note of the Liszt sounded, and I gasped inside – I had forgotten how beautifully he plays. He is a musician that I very much admire because of his extremely lively imagination in music as well as meticulous attitude when it comes to working out the very details of sound/phrase/etc (I still remember when I played with my violinist a year ago for him, he worked forever on the beginning of the Brahms G+ violin sonata). Also, he seems to be an advocate of the good taste in non-vibrato (thank goodness there’s a string player who doesn’t vibrate every note!) – and when he does that, the music seems to just soar.
Poulenc was of course extremely enjoyable. But I wanted to say more about the Ravel trio. This is a piece I can’t even start thinking about – for it brings so much feelings and sounds, memories and ideals that even thinking about the piece played in my head would take me already into another world. I must say, the first movement was slightly faster than what I would prefer, and I also wish that the piano would provide more “wash of sound” sometimes for the strings. Other than that, it was dazzling – in the fourth movement I saw magpies chirping and flying about in the sky, there’s something I can almost ascertain to say is Chinese.
A side-remark: the piano was of course on full-stick.
I walked out of Carnegie Hall, looked to my left, there was the Times Square lighting up the night into a day. It was just a beautiful, warm spring night in New York City. I walked home with so much inspiring and love.
A thought came to my mind today, when Horowitz’ famous remark on the categorizing of pianists: “Jewish, gay, bad” kept jumping to my eyes everywhere lately.
And this thought is somehow tied to my recent reading of Beethoven’s letters and conversations.
I think, I have a probable answer (though of course this is not the only one) to why musicians (and artists) can be blatantly gay in a good number. That is, a man has two choices in the course of his life: one, pursue his dream and passion; another, be the “realistic and practical”, make a good living and support his family (wife, children, etc). Of course, it would the “ideal” if he could do both successfully and whole-heartedly, but sometimes they collide – not only that, to settled for the latter would be a shame and betrayal on the former. And so, we have some great musicians/artists who have chosen the pursuit of their art, without the ability to support (financially) a family. And perhaps this is their destiny, a great challenge and gift God has bestowed upon these men. At the same time, when a man and a woman gets involved in a relationship, it is not easy to let it not lead anywhere serious (afterall, a man and a woman are to marry). And perhaps, homosexuality becomes an unconscious choice and one of the natural inclinations.
And this concludes my thought.
On a somewhat disjointed note..
Dear Marie, dear Bigot,
With the deepest regret I observe that the purest, most innocent of feelings can often be misinterpreted. Affectionately as you have received me in the past, it never occurred to me to assume anything other than that you were honouring me with your friendship. You must think me very vain and very petty if you suppose that the favourable disposition of even so excellent a person as you are would cause me to conclude at once that I have won her love. Besides, it is one of my first principles never to maintain a relationship other than one of friendship with another man’s wife.
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