My very first idol, Ludwig van Beethoven had a birthday yesterday (or, was it the day before?). He was christened on December 17, 1770, in Bonn, Germany. However, custom often involved a nearly twenty-four hours between birth and priestly aspersion. It is probable that the child was born the day before, December 16. Be that as it may, I became aware of him when I was between three and five years old. He held a special place in my heart then, and still does today.

My older brother was taking piano lessons, and I would immitate some of the tunes on the keyboard when he wasn't around. My father observed that I had "perfect pitch" when I was three. At some point, I was allowed to have some piano lessons. (We didn't last long, because we weren't interested in practicing.) I remember attracted to Beethoven's picture (drawing or painting) on the sheet music. He looked different from all the other composers of that magical elden time. He didn't look like Handel, Bach, Hayden, or Mozart. (He didn't wear a wig, for one thing.) They were dignified, refined, and jolly. Beethoven looked serious. Maybe messy, like, he was struggling. There was some mysterious pain in his face, a fury in his eyes, and a grand sense of power. He wasn't beautiful. He didn't really write beautiful music. He was like thunder, with sentiment. He was like a storm, like the wind, with a deeply personal sense about it. Looking back, I really don't know why he was so attractive to me as a little child. I think it was the strange suffering in him--of which I was completely nescient and innocent. Nor could I have begun to understand.

Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770-1827.

But, after I was decapacitated by cancer at age 11, I once again found myself at the piano. And, again, my interest in Beethoven was resumed. The ink drawing imprimatur of Beethoven on the G. Schirmer sheet music editions was compelling to me. I knew, intuitively, that Beethoven was my man. I read biographies of him, youth-style books, at first; then my father realized I was serious, and took me down to the OKC library, and we got a couple of huge biographies. I soon learned the first movement of the "Moonlight" sonata (Op.27 No.2), and proceded into other Beethoven works.

I learned that Beethoven had a very disturbed life, full of intense suffering, psychological and physical. Born in poverty, he was also of questionable ethnic origins. He was a bit swarthy, and kids called him "Der Spangol," or, the Spaniard ('spic,' as it were.) His father was a notably abusive alcoholic, and his mother died when he was only fifteen, and Ludwig had to assume financial responsibility for his whole family (father and siblings). They say Ludwig was a separated child, preoccupied, one who did not relate well to other children. He seemed always in his own, withdrawn world--terribly exciting though it was too him. He was composing music early. (Naturally, I had to try my hand at composing, too. My first "Minuet" was written when I was thirteen.) I was unable to play sports at this time, and music was all there was for me. I identified with Beethoven. Music was an imaginary world, but also took place in reality--performance. The composer imagined, the performer made it happen. I became a participant in both worlds, like Beethoven.

Decades and four degrees later, when I became involved in social work in New Haven, Connecticut, I realized some things about Beethoven I never before recognized. Today, he would be identified as an "emotionally disturbed" child, full of social maladjustments, and even a motory handicap. Of course, he began growing deaf when he turned thirty, so who knows what symptoms precipitated that. The studies on him nowadays reveal all sorts of problems. One wonders how the man even functioned at all. Of course, modernity is a lusus naturae of scientific detail, so that our vision of the past is doubtless distorted, despite of the fact that we think it is much clearer. Beethoven never married, though had many romantic interests over the years. They say he was pretty much an oaf of a person, very offensive, short tempered, and suspicious. Of course, when you can't hear, you naturally become more isolated psychologically, and naturally suspicious, or at least inquisitive. He was sick a lot through his life, too.

But one thing shines out with stellar attraction: nothing stopped him. Not even when he realized he was going to be deaf--in the prime of his life--he said, "I shall seize fate by the throat!" Out of the crisis we have wondrous works like the famous Fifth Symphony, and the "Appassionata." This music is stuns the soul. It is irresistible to all. Why? All suffer. All have challenges. Those that chose to fight are all heroes in their own way, in their own circumstances, in their own lives. Beethoven faced horrible inhibitions in life, but manfully faced them all. His is the music of heroes. Cowards need not listen.

Oh, yes, he lived through the Napoleonic invasion of Europe. At first he admired Napoleon, and dedicated the great Third Symphony, "Eroica" (Heroic), to him. Then when Beethoven learned that Napoleon had crowned himself emperor, literally taking the crown out of the pope's hand and placing it on his own head, Beethoven was infuriated, and madly tore up the title page of the symphony--dedicated to Napoleon--and pronounced the French potentate "a swine."

Well, this leads in to the topic of the political circumstances in which Beethoven lived. Born in 1770, he was a child of revolution. He lived until March 26, 1827. Let's see, how many major revolutions were there in that time? American, French, Greek,...the man saw it all! He had many things to say about politics, too, much more than many people are aware. One thing he was dead set against: royalty. Especially English royalty. He despised the presumption of superiority, and the social structure which was designed to preserve it. He was a "people's man," and a campaigner for freedom and equality. His famous Ninth Symphony, the one with the huge chorus (first of it's kind), is based on the famous poem of Friedrich Schiller's "Ode to Joy." Indeed, through this wondrous poem, Beethoven found expression of his deepest values. When it was all said and done, "All men are brothers," and the Creator embraces them all. In his misery, Beethoven knew the power of choice. For one who had seen, yea, studied, all emotion, he knew in the end that Joy was the feeling of choice, the state of preference.

Be embraced, Millions!
This kiss for all the world!
Brothers!, above the starry canopy
A loving father must dwell.

Can you sense the Creator, world?
Seek him above the starry canopy.
Above the stars He must dwell.

Be embraced, Millions!
This kiss for all the world!
Brothers!, above the starry canopy
A loving father must dwell.

We shall continue to look into Beethoven in the next several days. For now, here are a few books I recommend:

George R. Marek, Beeethoven: Biography of a Genius (Funk & Wagnalls, 1969)
Maynard Solomon, Beethoven (Schirmer, 1977)
Douglas Johnson, The Beethoven Sketchbooks (University of California, 1985)

When I was at Hartt School of Music (1988-1990), I did special work on the Beethoven sketchbooks. Among other things, I attempted to analyze his many doodlings in the margines. This lead to inquiry into the German psychological theories of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the kind of thing that stopped around 1940. Wonder why. Also, I analyzed specifically the sketches to the string quartete, Op.18 No.1. This is where I asserted the thesis that Beethoven had a neurological dysfunction, manifest as a motory handicap. Oddly, it was came out in "clutzy" behavior, like, everything he touch he seemed to break. Also, he could never learn simple dance steps, and it took numerous musical sketches to establish the basic rhythm of a theme. This all indicated a problem, in my estimation.

More later. For now, Happy Birthday, Beethoven! (The last time I seriously celebrated his birthday was in 1984, when Connecticut Public Radio aired an entire recital of my original works for piano, which program was given on December 16, exactly ten years before, at Oberlin Conservatory.) This is a time to reflect on the politics of art, perhaps. Beethoven was in the middle of it, the era, the philosophy, and even geographically (Germany). But, personally, he was a great example of the strength of will. He faced profound inhibitions, and triumphed over them. This is a wonderful example for all young people. There are few heroes of this order. We must celebrate them. We must emulate them. We must share the victory! Now that's what I call "equality."