Hess 304 – Ich blase das Fagott (I Play the Bassoon), Sketch for a Canon

Hess 304 – “Ich blase das Fagott” (I Play the Bassoon), Sketch for a Canon. Hess 304 is a fragment attributed to Ludwig van Beethoven, likely intended as part of a humorous canon. The title itself—“Ich blase das Fagott”—is suggestive of Beethoven’s playful spirit and penchant for musical jokes. The sketch was first published by Georg Schünemann in Neue Kanons von Beethoven, part of the Festschrift honoring the 60th birthday of Arnold Schering (Berlin, 1937).

 Historical and Analytical Context: The date of composition remains unknown. The sketch is located on page 4 of Artaria 205, number 7, a collection of Beethoven’s drafts. According to the Staatsbibliothek in Berlin, the presumed date of the sketchbook is 1811, although the handwriting and musical style suggest a possibly later origin. Schünemann proposed that the fragment may have been part of a comic canon, but noted that the remaining music was so faded as to be unreadable. However, closer inspection reveals that the manuscript is not so deteriorated as to prevent interpretation.

Musical Characteristics: The melody appears to relate only to the second line, spanning approximately one and a half measures. The remainder of the canon is faint, but not entirely illegible. It is unclear whether all parts belong to the same composition. The phrase interpreted as “Ich blase das Fagott” is textually ambiguous and may not be Beethoven’s original wording. The canon was reconstructed by Albert Willem Holsbergen, who provided a musically coherent version based on the surviving material. Audio recordings and reconstructions are available on .

Tonal Ambiguity: A notable discrepancy arises in the cataloging: Hess identifies the key as G major. However, the sketch is clearly in C major, as confirmed by musical analysis. This misidentification has led to confusion in scholarly references and highlights the challenges of cataloging fragmentary works.

Arnold Schering: The Honoree.  The publication of Hess 304 was part of a tribute to Karl Dietrich Arnold Schering (1877–1941), a prominent German musicologist: Born in Berlin to a publishing family, Schering studied violin in Dresden and later at the Hochschule für Musik in Berlin under Joseph Joachim. He earned his doctorate in 1902 at the University of Leipzig with a thesis on the history of the instrumental concerto up to Antonio Vivaldi, published in 1905. He co-edited the New Music Gazette (1903–1906). In 1907, he submitted a second thesis on the origins of the oratorio, later expanded and published in 1911 as Die Geschichte des Oratoriums. He taught at the Leipzig Conservatory and held professorships at the universities of Halle and Berlin. After the rise of the Nazi regime, Schering became a member of the National Socialist Teachers’ League and served on the Grand Council of the Reich Chamber of Music. Until 1936, he was president of the German Musicological Society. In the 1930s, he published works interpreting Beethoven’s music as symbolic of German national spirit. He was also a scholar of early music, particularly J.S. Bach. His monograph The Performing Practice of Early Music (1931) remains influential in historically informed performance.

The sketch is found on page 4 of Artaria 205, number 7. At first glance, the melody appears to refer only to the first part, contained on line two for a measure and a half. Schünemann reports that the rest of the Canon is no longer legible due to its faded state. Upon analysis, however, it does not appear to be so deteriorated as to impede its legibility. However, it does not appear to refer to the same composition. The text interpreted as “Ich blase das Fagott” is also of dubious interpretation. Regarding the dating, the Berlin State Library indicates the notebook’s presumed date as 1811. At first glance, it would appear to be later.

Hess 304 offers a glimpse into Beethoven’s lighter side: The use of a canon, typically a rigorous contrapuntal form, for a humorous text is emblematic of Beethoven’s wit. The fragment’s ambiguity—both textual and musical—invites speculation about its intended context. Holsbergen’s reconstruction allows modern audiences to appreciate the playful ingenuity behind the sketch. Though brief and fragmentary, this work contributes to our understanding of Beethoven’s comic sensibility and his fondness for musical wordplay.