Ludwig van Beethoven: a reluctant introduction

Written by Matthew Parsons.

Ludwig van Beethoven is not an artist you "discover." Like Shakespeare, da Vinci and the Beatles, his legacy hangs in the air unavoidably. Since his death in 1827, Beethoven has become as much a pop culture phenomenon as a composer. Outside the community of classical music enthusiasts, he manifests as a constellation of familiar melodies, mental images and fun facts. Meanwhile, inside that community, Beethoven's name comes saddled with so many generations of hero-worship that some of us are beginning to get tired.

To make matters worse, the year is 2020. Back in January, Beethoven's 250th anniversary looked like it was going to be a defining feature of the year's cultural calendar. As it turns out, COVID-19 scuppered most of the commemorative live events that were planned around the world. But for a brief moment between the beginning of the year and the global spread of the pandemic, it looked like we were careening headlong into a superfluous and backwards celebration of a composer whose legacy doesn't need any additional assistance. This moment did not pass without comment. For many, it seemed reprehensible to allow a figure as monumental as Beethoven to take up even more space while music by women and people of colour remains largely unheard in concert halls.

On the other hand, there's this:

Beethoven composed his 15th string quartet, Op. 132, shortly after recovering from a serious illness. He subtitled this third movement "Song of Thanksgiving, in the Lydian Mode, Offered to the Divinity by a Convalescent." I gather I'm not the only person who has found this piece especially poignant this year. I can't think of a better example of how music from centuries ago can still speak to us with power and specificity.

Where does all of this leave a new listener? If you try to walk into Beethoven's world in 2020, you may well get lost in a hall of mirrors: there are simply too many Beethovens to make sense of. There's the dishevelled comedy grump of popular culture. There's the marble-hewn titan of the European canon, whose Great and Superior Music Defines What it Means to be Human. There's the Beethoven who has become an unwitting villain in the struggle for wider representation in the concert hall. There's the convalescent of Op. 132.

Beethoven's relevance in 2020 is a question to be answered on a person-by-person basis. If you're new to his music, here are a few recommendations. I'm focusing on three particularly esteemed bodies of work: Beethoven's symphonies, string quartets and piano sonatas. Two things can be true: Beethoven's music is wonderful, and it also takes up too much space. None of the following should be construed as an endorsement of this one composer's suffocating omnipresence. 

Symphonies

Listening through Beethoven's nine symphonies feels a bit like listening through the complete discography of a really great band. Never mind that they're a small fraction of Beethoven's complete output — they make for a concise summation of his life's work.

There's a widely accepted notion that Beethoven's career happened in three phases: early, middle and late. He composed symphonies in all of them. The first two come from the early period, when he was writing music that was strongly influenced by his elders Haydn and Mozart. Numbers three through eight are the defining works of Beethoven's middle period, during which he found his own distinctive, grandiose voice. That leaves the ninth, Beethoven's one late-period symphony. Like all of his late works it is profoundly ambitious, and its inclusion of singers exploded the idea of what a symphony could be for the next generation of composers.

Where to start: Symphony No. 6 ("Pastoral"). All of Beethoven's symphonies suffer from overexposure to varying degrees. The sixth is familiar without being too familiar, pleasant without being cloying, and features some of Beethoven's most memorable melodies. He has never shared Mozart's reputation for writing gorgeous tunes, but this is one piece that proves he could do it when he wanted to.

Where not to start: Symphony No. 1. Listening to the Beethoven symphonies in chronological order is certainly worth doing but it isn't the way to start. The first is delightful, but it doesn't sound like the Beethoven you're expecting to hear, given everything you've learned about Beethoven by osmosis. If you want an encounter with the Beethoven that people think of when they think of Beethoven, start a bit later in his career and double back if you find yourself obsessed.

String quartets

If you've decided to really dive into Beethoven's works, you could do worse than to just listen to all nine symphonies immediately before moving onto other things. But if you're looking for some sonic variety, here's another genre that demonstrates the respective sound worlds of Beethoven's three distinct career phases. 

Beethoven's six early quartets are delightful good fun that will once again remind you of Mozart if you know Mozart. The middle ones (numbers seven through 11) are stately and impressive — as with the symphonies, the middle-period works are the ones that will probably deliver on your expectations of what Beethoven sounds like. That leads us to numbers 12 through 16.

Where to start: String Quartet No. 14, Op. 131. Beethoven's reputation among the general public rests on familiar works like the fifth symphony, "Für Elise," and the "Moonlight" sonata. But the works that have made him a meme aren't necessarily the same works that attract his most devoted listeners. If you want to understand why people don't merely like Beethoven but adore him, you need to hear the late string quartets. Op. 131 is a fine example. Its seven movements are inseparable from each other: it's a 40-minute block of nonstop ideas. It seems to exist in its own universe, where the usual rules don't apply. That's equally true of the other late quartets.

Where not to start: The "Razumovsky" quartets. These middle-period works are among Beethoven's most frequently performed music. They're great fun, but they're less stirring than the symphonies from the middle period, and they can't touch the sincerity of the late quartets.

Piano sonatas

The most famous appraisal of Beethoven's 32 piano sonatas comes from the conductor and pianist Hans von Bülow, who called them the "New Testament" of piano music. (Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier was his "Old Testament.")

Where to start: Piano Sonata No. 14 ("Moonlight"). The appeal is this: you already know the first movement, but that isn't even the best part. The finale of the "Moonlight" sonata is one of Beethoven's most exciting and explosive moments. 

Where not to start: Piano Sonata No. 29 ("Hammerklavier"). This late sonata is one of Beethoven's most acclaimed works. It's also very long, and exhausting if you're not in the right frame of mind. It's like a symphony for one musician. That said, if you're curious, you should skip ahead to the finale. It holds you in suspense for a couple minutes, then explodes into an impossible fugue that's one of the ultimate tests for any concert pianist.

Next steps

The piano concertos. The overtures. The cello sonatas. There's much, much more. And there's a frankly vulgar number of recordings of all of it. 

If you still find yourself intimidated, remember the thing that Beethoven's hero cult would have you forget: he was just a guy working for his pay. And now he's dead. There's no need to be precious about him. If listening to a complete work sounds like a tall order, listen to one movement. That can be a perfectly complete experience — look no further than the movement from the Op. 132 quartet I linked at the beginning of this piece. It loses nothing by being heard out of context. 

And while we all eagerly await the return of the regular live concert schedule, recordings can surface elements of Beethoven's music that live performances simply can't. This is music to soundtrack your life. The early string quartets make excellent errand-running music. The finale of the "Hammerklavier" plays best after several beers. And that Thanksgiving Hymn from Op. 132 only reveals its full power when you are completely alone.