Program Notes

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)

Concerto for Violin, Cello, Piano and Orchestra in C Major, op. 56 (1804)

Scored for one flute, pairs of oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns and trumpets, timpani and strings

In May of 1808 at a concert for the nobility in Vienna and without much fanfare, a new work by Ludwig van Beethoven was performed. About the performance itself we know almost nothing, but the work that was performed was the Concerto for Piano, Violin, Cello and Orchestra, Op. 56. There is no official record of who played the piece on this occasion. The work had been conceived and sketched way back in 1803 and was actually completed in 1804. Again there is no official record to explain why it was so long a gap between composition and performance, especially since Beethoven was enjoying unprecedented success at the time. And why a concerto for piano trio and orchestra, a very unusual combination of forces? We may not have facts, but a few more things can be surmised if we accept the testimony of Anton Schindler.

Schindler has been variously described as Beethoven’s assistant, his secretary and his lapdog. He was certainly a constant devotee, idolizing the great composer. According to Schindler, the Triple Concerto was written for Beethoven’s pupil and faithful patron Archduke Rudolph. The violin part was intended for Karl August Seidler and the cello for Anton Kraft. This testimony would seem to give us a fairly complete picture, except for one thing: history has proven Schindler to be a forger and an unmitigated liar where Beethoven was concerned. His goal first and foremost was to cause history to remember Beethoven in Schindler’s image, which was that of a musical god. His actions, though carried out with the best intentions, have done serious damage to a deeper understanding of Beethoven’s later life. There is no reason to suspect that Schindler had any ulterior motive in his statements concerning the concerto, but his credibility is on vastly shaky ground.

There are two things, though, that seem to corroborate Schindler’s ideas. First, the time of the composition fits in with the time Archduke Rudolph began his studies with Beethoven. Second is the piano part, which is considerably less demanding when compared to other piano works written at the same time. The Archduke, though talented, was still only fifteen.

But now that we have established this, there is still the question of the dedication. Despite the fact that during the time of the composition of this work Beethoven had dedicated several compositions to Rudolph, the score was inscribed instead to Prince Lobkowitz, another of Beethoven’s generous patrons. This begs the question that if the work were written for the Archduke, would it not also have been dedicated to Him? Again, the circumstances are too sketchy to have a definitive answer. So, therefore, we must go with what we know for sure. We know that the concerto was written by Beethoven, we know it was performed in 1809, and we know that it wasn’t a great success. As a matter of fact, there is no record of the work ever having been performed again in Beethoven’s lifetime.

That said, there is much here to delight and inspire the listener. Though the concerto is not considered one of Beethoven’s great works, all that really means is that it isn’t as great as some of the works that surround it, most notably the Eroica Symphony. We must keep in mind, as Donald Francis Tovey said, “If it were not by Beethoven, but by some mysterious composer who had written nothing else, and who had the romantic good sense to die before it came to performance, the very people who most blame Beethoven for writing below his full powers would be the first to acclaim it as the work of a still greater composer”

The first theme of the opening movement is barely heard on the basses. The character of this movement is not yet clear, having a feeling of the mysterious about it. A tutti climax starts to make things clearer, and when the steady accompaniment of the low strings begins and the second theme is taken up in the violins, its vibrant, joyful nature is finally evident. The exposition builds to a majestic peak, And as the steady accompaniment in the strings returns, it is the cello who introduces the soloists. Soon it is followed by the violin and then the piano in playing the movement’s first theme. The trio then elaborates, the music coming to rest with the piano. A new march like theme is introduced in the orchestra and taken up by the cello, then the other soloists in turn. The music intensifies and comes to a head with a tutti. The cello once more leads the way into the development section with a soaringly lovely rendition of the second theme, with the full trio eventually taking the music to magnificent dramatic heights. The recapitulation is begun in full voice by the orchestra and followed through with the trio. There is no cadenza in this movement, but a passage dominated by the soloists leads into the thrilling coda.

The middle movement is lovely, introspective and rapturous. It flows, uninhibited throughout, but as the soloists briefly take up the music it becomes obvious that their purpose is preparation, the movement intended as a brief respite and an introduction to the finale.

The last movement is a rondo in the style of a Polonaise. It is once again the cellist who starts the proceedings. The trio livens things up before the orchestra takes things to another level. The episodes interjected between each repeat of the Polonaise theme are of traditionally contrasting mood and are used for brilliant technical display from the soloists. A sudden shift from triple to duple meter, and the Polonaise theme is now cleverly divided amongst the three soloist, who are then finally given a cadenza, however brief. In the coda the trio leads the way to a vibrant conclusion, as Beethoven instructs the orchestra and soloists to play their final chords staccato, while asking the pianist to hold his out.