Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67
Ludwig van Beethoven
(b. December 16, 1770 in Bonn; d. March 26, 1827 in Vienna)
The symphony premiered December 22, 1808, at a four-hour concert exclusively made up of Beethoven premieres, all conducted and/or played by Beethoven himself. The humongous undertaking was plagued by a frigid hall, scant rehearsal time, and some ill-will among singers and musicians who had previously felt slighted while dealing with Beethoven. Later performances of the symphony, however, were received rapturously. Its overwhelming popularity has continued unabated ever since.
In 1805 Beethoven had reached full musical maturity, but other aspects of his life were problematic. Although it had not yet curtailed his ability to perform, his growing deafness complicated life for a man with little instinct for social graces. That, in particular, made the love and marriage that a successful man in his thirties might aspire to, elusive and finally unattainable. Still, he heartfully pursued several women—including the “Immortal Beloved” referenced in an unsent letter found after his death. Her identity has been the center of much speculation.
Beethoven apparently had hopes of marrying a student, the young widow Josephine Deym, but her parents made clear she would lose support for her children if she married Beethoven. Josephine’s sister, Theresa Brunswick, somewhat older and unencumbered, seems to have attracted Beethoven’s romantic attentions in turn. She adored his music and remained his friend the rest of his life. Either woman might have been the addressee of the unsent letter.
These matters of the heart, as well as financial considerations that almost drove him from Vienna, were all playing out in 1804-08 when Beethoven composed the Symphony No. 5.
Dit-dit-dit-DAH, the arresting opening of the first movement, derived from Beethoven hearing the call of a yellowhammer while walking in the Wiener Prater, a large public park still in Vienna today. Its call is suggested by saying, "A little bit of bread and no cheese." Beethoven often started from a small suggestion. His notebooks show endless working out of details for most of his compositions. The yellowhammer’s many fast notes, Beethoven condensed to just three and he had himself a motif to state fiercely and to repeat incessantly, emblazoning it into the listener’s mind. “Such is the blow of Fate on the door.,” said Beethoven.
The emotional stress in his life pours out in obsessive repetition. Even the lyrical second theme is still undergirded by the knocks of fate. A surprise oboe solo interrupts the recapitulation—perhaps a vain plea for respite. The coda brings an aggressive new theme. Fateful knocking comes again. Could it be another recapitulation? It was only a feint and seven bars of firm chords bring us to the end.
The placid second movement is a theme with three variations. Halfway through the first variation, the mood becomes hushed. In the lower strings we hear fate knocking once again.
The opening of the scherzo, outlining the C-minor chord upwards, is a quotation from Mozart’s Symphony No. 40. Yes, it’s so simple it might be coincidence, but Beethoven copied the bars from Mozart verbatim into his notebook. Brass blare repeated notes, short-short-short-long: We hear fate knocking once more. The fugal trio section shows off Beethoven’s mastery of an older style. The scherzo returns, almost inaudibly, with pizzicato strings, creating a perfect setup for the magical bridge section that follows. The timpanist quietly thumps a C—a pedal point all through the build-up directly into the radiant finale.
The effect is all catharsis. We hear again the fate-knocking rhythm, first in quick note values, then longer, more obviously, quoting from the scherzo. In music if not in love the soul triumphs.
(c) 2011, 2020, 2025 by Steven Hollingsworth,
Creative Commons Public Attribution 3.0
United States License.
Contact steve@trecorde.net
