Program Notes

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
PIANO CONCERTO NO. 5 in E-FLAT MAJOR, OP. 73, EMPEROR

The evolution of Beethoven’s creative genius makes for one of the more intriguing biographies of any artist. Plagued by financial troubles most of his life, deafness by age 30, a variety of illnesses, and a paradoxical relationship with those around him, Beethoven could easily have given into what he called his “unfavorable fate.’’ Instead, he persisted, and his stubbornness – his most resilient trait – literally changed 19^th century musical thought and action.

An example of this persistence can be heard and felt in his Piano Concerto No. 5, the famed Emperor, written when deafness forced him to compose in the “absence’’ of sound and rely on conversation books to communicate. His resolve, however, overcame his liability, evident in a work of unprecedented depth and expression.

Cast in the majestic key of E-flat major, the concerto is a dialog among equals – soloist and orchestra carry the same assertive weight throughout – although the piano is the hero of this story. Its warlike rhythms, pointed melodies and bold character led the musicologist Alfred Einstein to call it the “apotheosis of the military concept’’ in Beethoven’s creative output.

Unlike most concertos up to this time (1809), Beethoven introduces the soloist at the onset, overturning the tradition of a lengthy orchestral exposition. The piano enters like a wave crashing on shore as it unleashes a wash of notes in all directions. Yes, Beethoven also begins his Piano Concerto No. 4 with the soloist in the driver’s seat, but not on such a dramatic path.

The intensity of the opening allegro shows Beethoven pushing the boundaries of the keyboard “closer and closer to our modern instrument,’’ says Natasha Paremski, the featured soloist in this weekend’s concerts and who performed Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini with TFO in January.

“It’s impossible to feel stagnant playing this piece, as it’s such an incredible showcase for the orchestra,’’ she says. “And every orchestra plays differently, so I very much look forward to coming together with The Florida Orchestra.’’

Beethoven’s popularity rests in part on his power – the full-throttled energy of so many of his orchestral and chamber works. But the Emperor reveals something else: a tenderness and lyricism that serve to deepen the surrounding struggle. Imagine the opening and closing movements of his Ninth Symphony unmoored from the central adagio that brings them to life. The Emperor is no different.

“The second movement is undoubtedly sublime,’’ Paremski adds.  “And what makes it special is the simplicity with which Beethoven delivers his message.’’

The adagio is Beethoven on a spiritual high, the piano’s delicate, ascending melody set against muted strings in what sounds like a hymn. Leonard Bernstein was so enamored by this music that he borrowed its initial theme for the song Somewhere in his musical West Side Story.

Then, emerging from a few suggestive chords, the concerto concludes with a burst, the keyboard’s offbeat tune riding atop insistent rhythms from the orchestra, a bluster of brass, and bold strokes by the kettledrums. After a moment of reflection, the work ends as exuberantly as it began.

An early 19^th-century review in the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung summed up the Emperor as the “most original, most inventive, most effective, most difficult of all concertos.’’ But it also would symbolize – as it does more than two centuries after its premiere – a longing for the infinite, which is the essence of Romanticism.

“The concerto encapsulates the heroic struggle of the individual, and how one determined soul can influence the world around him to a magnificent degree,’’ says TFO Music Director Michael Francis.