Ludwig Beethoven will ever remain the composer of choice for those inclined to a cerebral disposition. Here, we shall touch on the distinctive features of his style fleetingly in order to meditate on another question, namely as to the nature of the artistic temperament that makes it possible. We can be fortunate that the music critic J.W.N. Sullivan has devoted a short work to the issue – a veritable classic of its kind, entitled Beethoven: His Spiritual Development (originally published by Alfred A. Knopf in 1927). A quick comment regarding the author himself: based solely on the internal evidence of this work, Sullivan himself happens not to be overtly religious but is highly cultured and sensitive, hence appropriate to his biographical subject in Beethoven.
What to learn from Sullivan: a characteristic of Beethoven’s style, with its early, middle and late phases. An instructive experiment would be to listen to all of the violin sonatas in chronological order, straight through, or to all of the string quartets. If one ventures to do so, he will be struck by how Beethoven’s distinctive voice emerges part way through and the musicality comes alive, so to speak, with the Spring sonata (Op. 24) or with the Rasumovsky quartets (Op. 59). For his artistry excels at thematic development in contrast with the strophic style popular since Renaissance times, which one can discern the late Hadyn and late Mozart striving to overcome. Beethoven transcends the confines of the sonata form itself in his last piano piece, the monumental Op. 110 – what a catharsis, when, after the two hands have long been widely separated by about as many octaves as the keyboard will embrace, the right hand descends into the final resolution! But nothing can compare to the sublime strangeness of the late quartets in which our composer transports us into almost another imaginative universe.
To listen to Beethoven is to participate in a sustained meditation, or perhaps better said, to feel a musical argument impose itself with all the inevitability of a mathematical demonstration. One senses something continually at work in the composer’s mind and conceives an anticipation for where he will lead us. In theoretical terms, the innovative information per unit time must surpass that of almost any other composer, with the possible exception of J.S. Bach. Maybe a computer scientist versed in pattern recognition could even quantify a claim such as this!
The present work opens with a first book on the nature of music in general: sections on art and reality, music as isolated and music as expression. A major concern is scientific materialism versus aesthetic perceptions, the former coming to be seen as unnecessary and insufficient: in his view, the time has come for an ‘adequate’ aesthetic criticism not predicated on a scientistic outlook. For artistic organization reflects factors of reality not captured by science. Indeed, music has a revelatory function and connects with emotions, too:
The highest function of music is to express the musician’s experience and his organization of it. The whole man collaborates to make the composition. That the experience cannot be communicated in other terms is not surprising. Music shares this peculiarity with all the other arts. [p. 34]
Amongst musical phrases are some which do more than please our musical faculty. They stir other elements in us; they reverberate throughout a larger part of our being. [p. 43]
Sullivan’s main stress is on the divide between pure versus program music and he asserts that Beethoven falls in the latter camp. In the second book, he takes up the connection of art with the spiritual temperament of the artist. Beethoven is an outstanding example since, unlike Bach, Haydn or Mozart, he presages what was to come in the Romantic era (Berlioz etc.). Unlike what is the case with modern civilization which goes so far to obscure the necessity of suffering for most, at least over the greater span of life before the terminal decline, Beethoven knew the depths of suffering and depression, verging on if not descending into the twilight of madness:
The chief characteristics of the fully mature Beethoven's attitude towards life are to be found in his realization of suffering and in his realization of the heroism of achievement. [p. 63]
Beethoven's capacity for a deep and passionate realization of suffering necessitated, if he were not to be reduced to impotence, a corresponding capacity for endurance and an enormous power of self-assertion. [p. 65]
For Beethoven faced the challenge of overcoming deafness, a paradoxical fate for a musician. His response is registered in the Heiligenstadt testament as well as in his compositions from that period themselves:
The Beethoven of the C minor symphony finds the meaning of life in achievement in spite of suffering. Fate is an enemy to be defied. Hie Beethoven of the last quartets finds that the highest achievement is reached through suffering. Suffering is accepted as a necessary condition of life, as an illuminating power. [pp. 67-68]
Another theme is Beethoven’s overcoming of the arrogance that was natural to him as a child prodigy and accomplished young man:
All this made an excellent setting for the morality of power. Beethoven’s real strength, his contempt for others, and his success, must have made this doctrine thoroughly congenial to him. He was, in fact, admirably constructed to be an exponent of the morality of power. But a higher destiny was reserved for him. [p. 101]
Up till now, as we see quite clearly from the letters, Beethoven's reaction to the impending calamity was defiance. He felt that he must assert his will in order not to be overcome. He would summon up all his strength in order to go on living and working in spite of his fate. “I will take Fate by the throat”….But only when the consciously defiant Beethoven had succumbed, only when his pride and strength had been so reduced that he was willing, even eager, to die and abandon the struggle, did lie find that his creative power was indeed indestructible and that it was its deathless energy that made it impossible for him to die. This new and profound realization of his nature is the most significant thing in the famous Heiligenstadt Testament, written in the autumn of this year, but not discovered till after his death. It marks the complete collapse of the old morality of power, and shows the experiences that made possible the erection of a new morality of power on the ruins of the old. [pp. 107-109]
This document marks a crisis in Beethoven's life. Never again was his attitude towards life one of defiance, where the defiance was an expression of what is called his “strength of character”. He had no such need of defiance, for he no longer had any fear. He had become aware within himself of an indomitable creative energy that nothing could destroy. [p. 113]
What difference does Beethoven’s learning to ‘accept his suffering as in some mysterious way necessary’ [p. 115] make for his art?
In most of Beethoven’s early music his experiences of life enter, not as a mastered and synthetic whole, but as moods. He may be sombre, melancholy, gay, or anything else, but these alternations in a composition have no organic connection. [p. 130]….The first piece of music he composed that has a really profound and important spiritual content is the Eroica symphony….The most profound experience that Beethoven had yet passed through was when his courage and defiance of his fate had been followed by despair. He was expressing what he knew when he made the courage and heroism of the first movement succeeded by the black night of the second. And he was again speaking of what he knew when he made this to be succeeded by the indomitable uprising of creative energy in the Scherzo. Beethoven was here speaking of what was perhaps the cardinal experience of his life, that when, with all his strength and courage, he had been reduced to despair, that when the conscious strong man had tasted very death, there came this turbulent, irrepressible, deathless creative energy surging up from depths he had not suspected. [pp. 134-136]
In Beethoven’s earlier work we are dealing, for the most part, with experiences which are not only fundamental but universal. This is what is meant by some writers when they call this music more “objective” than his later work. The spiritual content of the most characteristic of Beethoven's “second period” work may be summed up as achievement through heroism in spite of suffering. [p. 251]
Still, he has to be tested. In what is a common experience for those who have only just begun to advance in the spiritual life, Beethoven imagined himself to have arrived at a permanent solution to the enigma of his calling when in reality he was only in the initial stages of a long journey:
In this symphony [the seventh] Beethoven seems to have emerged into a region where the spiritual struggle that had obsessed him for years is finally done with. Conflict and anguish, to say nothing of despair, are completely absent from this symphony. The hard road to victory, it would appear, has been trodden for the last time. [p. 166]….And, indeed, his triumph was premature. He was to find that the fruits of victory he imagined to be within his grasp were not for him. His courage and resolution, that had taken him so far, were not enough. He had to learn submission and endurance. [p. 170]
Why? Up to then in his life, Beethoven could still harbor hopes for romantic love and marriage. Eventually he was forced to resign his hopes:
At the time that he wrote the Hammerclavier sonata, finished in 1818, Beethoven's realization of his essential loneliness was terrible and complete. But we may suppose that even then he was becoming aware that his separation from the world was the entry into a different and more exalted region. But the Hammerclavier sonata is the expression of a man of infinite suffering, of infinite courage and will, but without God and without hope. [pp. 205-206]
That state [in the Adagio] of what we can only call serenity based, not on any turning away from suffering, but on its acceptance, is sufficient justification, surely, for the experience portrayed in the first movement. So great a degree of understanding, in which nothing is ignored, is worth, it would seem, whatever price has been paid for it. But there is a state beyond, a condition of almost superhuman ecstasy, as Beethoven had already revealed to us in the last movement of the last pianoforte sonata. [p. 216-217]
But this inner world to which Beethoven had now retreated, although it no longer owed anything to fresh contacts with the outer world, was nevertheless a living and developing world. It not only contained elements which he had never before explored, but also elements that had never before existed. The last quartets testify to a veritable growth of consciousness, to a higher degree of consciousness, probably, than is manifested anywhere else in art. [p. 223]
Sullivan’s extended analysis of the late string quartets [pp. 229-247] is excellent – “strange seas of thought”; “unsuspected islands and even continents”. [p. 226]. For instance, this passage:
The fugue [Op. 133] has been called an expression of the reconciliation of freedom and necessity, or of assertion and submission, and the terms may pass since they suggest the state of consciousness that informs the fugue, a state in which the apparently opposing elements of life are seen as necessary and no longer in opposition. Beethoven had come to realize that his creative energy, which he at one time opposed to his destiny, in reality owed its very life to that destiny. It is not merely that he believed that the price was worth paying; he came to see it as necessary that a price should be paid. To be willing to suffer in order to create is one thing; to realize that one’s creation necessitates one’s suffering, that suffering is one of the greatest of God’s gifts, is almost to reach a mystical solution of the problem of evil, a solution that it is probably for the good of the world that very few people will ever entertain. [pp. 232-233]
Finally, Sullivan comments on the ultimate resolution Beethoven reaches late in life:
Its greatness depends on what we have called its spiritual content, and this is something that the listener perceives directly, although he may be entirely unable to formulate it. [p. 249]….It is only the very greatest kind of artist who presents us with experiences that we recognize both as fundamental and as in advance of anything we have hitherto known. With such art we make contact, for a moment, with “The prophetic soul of the wide world/Dreaming on things to come”. It is to this kind of art that Beethoven's greatest music belongs and it is, perhaps, the greatest in that kind. [pp. 250-251]
It so happens that Beethoven's last complete work, the quartet in F major, Op. 135, makes a fitting end to his great series of explorations. It is the work of a man who is fundamentally at peace. It is the peace of a man who has known conflict, but whose conflicts are now reminiscent. [p. 254-255]
A couple comments to close:
1) Sketch of why a conventional academic career is incompatible with artistic resp. intellectual greatness. In order for one possessed of an independent, frequently contrarian, scientific spirit to flourish, he would have to chart a course just the opposite of what everyone else does to get ahead, viz., keeping abreast of fashionable literature and producing a steady stream of more or less superficial developments from it. It may not be idle to ponder what might be the repercussions of a system of professional recruitment that favors exclusively a Mozartian genius, capable of spinning out a continual supply of brilliant, if stylized, papers, to the disadvantage of the Beethovenian, which agonizes over every turn and refuses to repeat itself – but for anyone at the brink of an academic career it is a life-and-death question. To pursue the musical analogy, since this recensionist has not Beethoven’s precociousness, he could compare himself rather to César Franck, who composed his first symphony only at sixty-five. What use to point out that no one else thought of the technique of transcendental variation?
But virtue is known by her fruits. In literature and the arts, it is simply accepted that one just starting out must be content to remain unknown and unsupported until, by dint of extraordinary effort, he produces a great novel or equally promising series of artistic works that might serve as a ticket to recognition on the public scene. That things should be otherwise in the natural sciences represents something of an historical anomaly, rooted in the prestige that physics attained during the second world war and the consequent generous governmental funding it received in the post-war era. The ideal, still intact, that a natural scientist ought to go straight from his doctorate to a tenure-track position (possibly with the intervention of a post-doctoral appointment), could be sustained as long as the university system was expanding and grants were readily available. Nowadays, the tenure-track system is breaking down under the strain of having too many applicants for too few open positions, leading to an inevitable distortion of incentives: for if one wishes to appear a plausible candidate with a stellar curriculum vitae, one certainly cannot risk anymore trying to found an original research program that might take years upon years to mature. And the health of the field as a whole suffers thereby. For the individual, however, the question comes down to one of intellectual integrity. Suffice it to say that it is highly unlikely that anyone could ever achieve happiness, even if outwardly successful, by disowning his own ideas and conforming with the crowd. Therefore, anyone who still aspires to the artistic greatness of a Beethoven must reconcile himself to leaving academia after obtaining his doctorate – or, at most, after a terminal post-doctoral fellowship – and pursuing his own research in spare time, as long as it takes. To suggest anything else would be to abuse the credulity of youth. That is why one can be inspired by the firmness of character and willingness to endure hardship that Beethoven’s witness displays, in Sullivan’s account here.
2) A comment on the significance for mystical theology of Beethoven’s spiritual development, as traced by Sullivan? As a rule, the state in life in which one realizes one’s vocation ought to correspond to one’s endowment and proclivities; cf. Cicero:
Quae contemplantes expendere oportebit, quid quisque habeat sui, eaque moderari nee velle experiri, quam se aliena deceant; id enim maxime quemque decet, quod est cuiusque maxime suum. [De officiis, I.xxxi.113]
If we take this into consideration, we shall see that it is each man’s duty to weigh well what are his own peculiar traits of character, to regulate these properly, and not to wish to try how another man’s would suit him. For the more peculiarly his own a man’s character is, the better it fits him. [Walter Miller’s translation in the Loeb classical library]
Against this dictate of worldly wisdom, we may oppose the paradoxicality of divine providence. For God does occasionally give people a calling contrary to natural inclination – the more so, the more he requires of his follower whom he wishes to favor. Therefore, one can be encouraged by Beethoven’s courage in the face of his fate, to become deaf yet not succumb to despair. Another touch point in the same vein would be Franz Schubert’s late song cycle, the Winterreise: driven out into the wilderness by the denouement of an unfortunate love affair, the protagonist, through all the variations of mood, eventually finds his way to something like reconciliation with his fate, contentment enough to keep on going (if not itself the fullness of inner peace) – a bellwether sign of an invariable law of the spiritual life, that one must suffer a necessary loss as condition of spiritual fertility:
In all truth I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls in the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies it yields a rich harvest. Anyone who loves his life loses it; anyone who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. [John 12:24-25]
A hint at the cruciform nature of the divine aesthetic, totally different from the human – unless one be brave enough to become a disciple of Jesus. Now Beethoven, for all the unconventionality of his religious temperament, does know the paradox of dispossession and accept it – we have as proof, the indescribable eerie magnificence of his late phase!