Beethoven Coriolan Overture, Op.62

Although Beethoven composed only one opera, Fidelio (originally titled Leonore), he was frequently drawn to compose overtures and incidental music to stage dramas, such as Goethe’s drama, Egmont. While lovers of theater may be familiar with William Shakespeare’s play, Coriolanus, Beethoven was inspired to write his Coriolan Overture to another drama involving the same character, Gaius Marcius Coriolanus. The author in question was Beethoven’s contemporary, the Viennese playwright Heinrich Joseph von Collins (1771-1811), whose play of the same name dates from 1804. Beethoven’s familiarity with the historical figure of Coriolanus was doubtlessly fed by not only Collin’s play, but also by his self-education whereby he read as much literature regarding Greco-Roman history, including Plutarch’s Parallel Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans.

The Coriolan Overture is composed in the key of C Minor. Much has been written about this tonality being Beethoven’s choice for some of his most dramatic music. Think of his Piano Sonata, op. 13 (Gran Sonata Pathétique), his String Quartet, Op. 18, no. 4, the Piano Concerto no. 3, and above all, his Symphony no. 5 and you get the idea. The Coriolan Overture, whose compositional dates overlap with his work on the Fifth Symphony, comes closest in spirit to that titanic symphony. Indeed, the tautness of its structure, its aggressive and restless nature (representative of Coriolan’s personality), and relentless sense of forward motion make the first movement of the Fifth Symphony and the overture kinsmen. It opens with a powerful gesture—a long unison note that explodes into a dramatic chord. Beethoven repeats the gesture twice more before launching into its restless first theme. A secondary theme in the major mode, perhaps representing Coriolan’s mother’s futile effort to dissuade her son from attacking Rome, is overtaken by more the more dramatic elements, again suggesting Coriolan’s impetuous temperament.

© David B. Levy

Stephen McNeff Violin Concerto

Beethoven Symphony No.3 in E flat Major Op.55, ‘Eroica’

I               Allegro con brio

II              Marcia funebre: Adagio assai

III             Scherzo: Allegro vivace

IV             Finale: Allegro molto

By the time he reached his 30s, Beethoven was well-established in Vienna as a composer, teacher, and pianist, but the joy of this was more than tarnished by his realisation that he was beginning to lose the one sense that was indispensable to any musician; his hearing. As the turn of the century approached, he turned seriously to the symphony, a genre that had been well-developed in the 18th century by CPE Bach, Stamitz, Haydn and Mozart. Beethoven, however, had something more to give.

Beethoven probably conceived the scheme of his third symphony in 1802, just after penning his heartbreaking Heiligenstadt Testament, in which he despaired at the gradual loss of his hearing and even expressed thoughts of suicide, but declared his determination to overcome his condition. The result was the Eroica, an enormous testament of will and determination. He initially dedicated the symphony to Napoleon, whom Beethoven admired as a liberator and fellow revolutionary. But when Napoleon declared himself Emperor in May 1804, Beethoven was so infuriated he was almost on the point of destroying the finished work itself. Instead, he contented himself with tearing the inscription from the title page. He now saw Bonaparte as infected with the same ambition and desire for self-aggrandisement that plagued lesser men. The symphony thus received a new title: “Heroic Symphony to celebrate the memory of a great man”.

After two hammer-like chords, the cellos state the principal theme, which consists of no more than a triad swinging backwards and forwards. Beethoven uses this simple theme to create something incredibly complex. With the violins’ urgent and high rhythm, the harmony becomes obscured. It remains uncertain all the way through the second subject and the even longer development, until finally the audience is desperate for a return to the tonic. This is reintroduced by an impatient horn, almost as a mistake.

The breaking of convention and elements of heroism continue in the second movement. Beginning softly with the strings, the theme is picked up by the entire orchestra and then appears as a fugue where each in turn the different instruments play the melody. The movement’s great length stems mainly from the size of this theme, and Beethoven’s need to include afterthoughts, enunciated across the whole orchestra. Despite brief messages of consolation and moments of wonderful affirmation, the movement limps to an end with the first theme, but so broken in rhythm and accent as to be almost unrecognisable.

The typical 18th-century minuet is replaced with a dashing scherzo. Through the long whispering of the opening, bursting out into fortissimo, to the trio featuring a trio of horns – despite their limitations – Beethoven managed to fulfill Haydn’s desire to replace the minuet with something on a scale comparable to the rest of the symphony.

The figure of the hero returns in the final movement with a set of variations on a theme from Beethoven’s popular ballet The Creatures of Prometheus. It’s almost as if the composer is rewarding his patient listeners with a tune that they have already come to enjoy. The final variation in the style of a country dance concludes with what we recognise as Beethoven’s signature, a long series of closing chords – twenty-four of them in all.

© Elizabeth Boulton