Opus 57 Sonata in Fminor for piano
I) Allegro assai – II) Andante con moto – III) Allegro ma non troppo
OPUS 57 – Piano Sonata in F minor, Op. 57, dedicated to Count Franz von Brunswik, composed in the latter half of 1804 to early 1805, published in Vienna by the Bureau d’arts et d’industrie, February 1807. GA no. 146 (series 16/23) – B. 57 – KH. 57 – L. III, p. 4 – No. 57 – T. 119.
The original manuscript is preserved in the library of the Paris Conservatoire. Sketches are found in the “Fidelio” sketchbook. The designation “Appassionata” appears for the first time in a four-hand piano edition published by the Cranz publishing house in Hamburg in 1838.
That the Sonata was called thus even earlier, perhaps during Beethoven’s own time and without his objection, remains a supposition. On the other hand, it can easily be observed that—even if understood, with closer adherence to the spirit of the music, in a broader sense than one referring solely to romantic passion—this designation does not suffice to characterise the work in its specific individuality; it would only serve, if anything, as an indication of recognition of the superlative intensity of expression achieved here by a kind of “musical passion” intrinsic to this and other Beethovenian pages in themselves.
Reference has already been made to a hypothetical derivation of the inspiration for this work, as well as for the second Sonata of Op. 31 in D minor, from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, based on a response Beethoven reportedly gave to Schindler, though the seriousness of this claim remains disputed. Here, too, scholars and commentators—Schindler foremost among them—have busied themselves seeking the where and how. Leaving aside the contrived allegories once proposed by De Lenz, it is worth recalling the modern reflections of Cortot, who related the figures of Prospero and Caliban, and Rolland, who drew a parallel between Beethoven’s art at the time and the general atmosphere (Stimmung) of Shakespeare’s comedy.
For our part, as with Op. 31/2, we continue to believe that the reading of the poetic work may have left in the artist’s imagination a certain generic sediment of impressions and emotions, from which the music then drew the elements for its free, incorporeal development; and attempting to identify in it, time after time, particular images of specific events or persons would diminish its inner efficacy. The Allegro assai asserts itself through the expressive power of its themes: the first sombrely questioning, the second, yet clearly related by formal affinity, generous, open, heroic; but continued, as if to complement the meaning of the first, by a third element of dramatic urgency.
Perhaps even more compelling are the relationships of opposition, interdependence, and derivation that unfold in exposition, development, recapitulation, and coda, all within a tempestuous atmosphere—in a figurative sense—comparable in many respects to that of the corresponding movement of Op. 31/2, though with less varied imagination, yet marked by a more continuous fervour. The theme of the Andante con moto, solemn as a chorale and rhythmic as a slow march, seems to come to us from a higher realm of august serenity.
It unfolds in three variations that Bekker overall defined as a kind of aesthetic of the various registers of the key of D-flat major. The first, still in the low register, begins to animate itself in the light contrapuntal movement of the bass; the second gains breadth and color from the higher pitch of the sound, which spreads like a harmonious halo in the tied arpeggio figurations; the third explains and rises even more, continually increasing in volume and spaciousness. In this progressive definition of the same constant image—in clarity of contours and brightness of reflections—lies the entire secret effect of the music; like an intermezzo of contemplation, a prayer ever more elevated toward heaven, a haunting impression of peace amid the stormy tempests of the other two movements: for even in the Allegro non troppo, which connects with a sudden dissonant hammered rhythm to the last bars of the melody, about to fade after reaching its fullest splendor, a tempestuous and agitated figure whirls from beginning to end, absorbing within itself the brief pleading or anguished collateral themes and phrases that intermittently surface.
The musical mood is akin to that of the first movement, and sensitive analogies can be found between the various expressive and formal elements of both. But here everything is more violent in its single passionate course, which suitably concludes in a Presto bursting forth like a fanfare. The key of F minor is not among Beethoven’s most frequently used; however, we find it in the youthful Sonata of 1782–83, in Sonata Op. 2 No. 1, in Quartet Op. 95, in the Allegretto of Sonata Op. 10 No. 2, in the Adagio of Quartet Op. 59 No. 1, in the introduction to the third act and Florestan’s aria in Fidelio (first version), in the Tempest movement of the Pastoral Symphony, in various episodes of Egmont, in the Allegro molto of Sonata Op. 10: it is a key that everywhere evokes, with different developments and intensities, dark atmospheres, tragic expectations, and dark, violent outbursts.
But its greatest expressive commitment is in the Sonata at hand, which Bekker aptly defined as “Beethoven’s F minor testament.” The hypothetical derivation of this Sonata—as well as Op. 31 No. 2—from Shakespeare’s Tempest is not accepted by Schering, who attributes it to a misunderstanding derived from Schindler’s “by no means clear” way of expressing himself. “Beethoven’s words refer only to Op. 31 No. 2. Why the master, after having expressed all essentials in this work, would have returned a few years later to the same subject is inexplicable.
It takes a disturbed imagination to find a connection between the passionate Sonata in F minor and the harmless play The Tempest itself. The foundation of the Appassionata lies rather, as I see it, in one of the most terrifying and bloodthirsty theatrical works of the English poet, Macbeth.” The moments of the tragedy considered by Beethoven would be as follows:
First movement: Act III, Scene IV: The Banquet. Macbeth (first theme), Lady Macbeth (second theme), attendants. The appearance of Banquo’s ghost at the table—
Second movement: Act IV, Scene I: Macbeth and the witches. The three apparitions (Three variations)—
Third movement (connected to the previous): Continuation of the witches’ scene. The conjuring of the shadows of the seven kings and Banquo. Dance of the witches and curse of Macbeth: “Where are they? Gone? Let this fatal hour be forever cursed in the calendar!”
[By Biamonti Giovanni – Catalogo cronologico e tematico delle opere di Beethoven comprese quelle inedite e gli abbozzi non utilizzati, Torino, ILTE 1968]
Official title: Opus 57 Sonate (f-moll) für Klavier Widmung: Franz Graf Brunsvik de Korompa NGA VII/3 AGA 146 = Serie 16/23. Beiname: Appassionata.
Origin and Publication: Sketched in 1804 or 1805. The autograph was completed in 1806, probably in spring/summer. The original edition was published in February 1807 by the Kunst-und Industrie-Comptoir in Vienna. The only known sketches for the work are preserved in the large sketchbook called Leonore (Tyson/Mendelssohn 15, Albrecht/Leonore, Brandenburg/Mendelssohn 15), and therefore we cannot follow the exact compositional process for the sonata. Ferdinand Ries claims, recounting a lively anecdote, that the sketches date to August 1804:
„Bei einem ähnlichen Spaziergange, auf dem wir uns so verirrten, daß wir erst um acht Uhr nach Döbling, wo Beethoven wohnte, zurückkamen, hatte er den ganzen Weg über für sich gebrummt oder theilweise geheult, immer herauf und herunter, ohne bestimmte Noten zu singen. Auf meine Frage, was es sei, sagte er, ,da ist mir ein Thema zum letzten Allegro der Sonate eingefallen* (in F moll Opus 57)“ (Wegeler/Ries p. 99).
It is very likely that Ries refers to the year 1804 (Albrecht/Leonore).
Alan Tyson, on the other hand, dates the sketches (as part of his attempt to reconstruct the Leonore sketchbook) to the first half of 1805 (Tyson/Mendelssohn 15). Sieghard Brandenburg considers it possible to date some sketches to the summer of 1805 and revises the dating attributed to Ries (Brandenburg/Mendelssohn 15). The negotiations conducted with Breitkopf & Härtel for the publication of op. 57 do not help to narrow the timeframe, since Beethoven first offered them the work on 26 August 1804 (BGA 188), but the delivery of the fair copy for engraving occurred only on 18 April 1805, “4 bis 6 Wochen” earlier (BGA 218). When Breitkopf interrupted the negotiations on 21 June for various reasons, the publisher had not yet received the fair copy (BGA 226). As suggested by the type of paper used, the autograph was written in 1806 (Tyson/Wo0133 p. 241). The manuscript, severely damaged by moisture like other manuscripts such as that of opus 59, presumably belonged to Beethoven’s luggage when, after a quarrel with Prince Lichnowsky, he left the castle of Grätz near Troppau at the end of October 1806 and was caught in a storm (TDR II p. 455f, also Tyson/Op59). The same manuscript was later used as the model for engraving.
Regarding the misleading numbering of the sonata as the “LIVme Sonata,” written on the title page of the original edition (same case as the “LIme Sonata” of op. 54), which has given rise to many speculations, see the Appendix Verlagswesen/Kunst- und Industrie-Comptoir 4. The nickname “Sonata appassionata” appears in editions published towards the end of the 1830s — it can be reliably dated from Cranz in Hamburg (four-hand arrangement by Hofmeister June 1838, two-hand arrangement November 1838) and also in editions — collections of piano sonatas from 1840 published by Spehr, Braunschweig and Böhme, Hamburg, followed by other editions. Carl Czerny wrote in 1842 (Czerny/Klavierschule) and in 1852 (Czerny/Beethoven) that „in einer neuern Auflage“ sonata op. 57 received the nickname “Appassionata”.
Dedication: Franz de Paula Count Brunsvik de Korompa, born 25 September 1777 in Pressburg (Bratislava), died 24 October 1849 or 1850 in Pest, son of Count Anatol (Antal) Brunsvik (1745–1793) and his wife Anna Barbara, née Baroness Seeberg (1752–1830); brother of Therese (1775–1861; see Op. 78), Josephine widow Deym married Stateiberg (1779–1821; see WoO 74), and Charlotte (1782–1840/43). Since 1799 all four siblings belonged to Beethoven’s closest circle of friends, and the composer often joked with Franz. Like his sisters, Franz was very gifted musically and played the cello excellently. His wife Sidonie, née von Justh (1801–1866), was a skilled pianist; according to Anton Schindler, who often heard her play in Pest between 1827 and 1829, she was also one of the finest interpreters of Beethoven of her time. Franz Brunsvik played much chamber music and regularly participated in musical circles. In February 1820 Joseph Czerny, who had stayed in Pest from 1814 to 1815, reported in a conversation notebook that he had played extensively with Count Brunsvik (BKh 1 p. 254).
In 1807 Franz Brunsvik took over the administration of the Martonväsär family estate and only rarely remained in Vienna. In 1811 Beethoven unsuccessfully tried to persuade Brunsvik to accompany him to Teplitz (Beethoven was afraid to travel alone because of his deafness). After 1815 Brunsvik lived mainly in Budapest; from 1819 to 1822 he rented the German Theatre of Pest and the Burgtheater of Buda. In 1815 he provided the pianist Anton Halm with a letter of recommendation before Halm left for Vienna, which was supposed to introduce him to Beethoven (document not preserved). In any case, Halm did come into contact with Beethoven, since Halm was to arrange the Große Fuge op. 133 for piano four-hands. Beethoven disliked the arrangement and completely reworked it. There is no evidence that Brunsvik had contact with Beethoven in his final years. Beethoven also dedicated the Fantasia op. 77 to him. In the subscriber list for Op. 1 she is called “Comtesse Brunswick” (Clive/Dictionary). First performance unknown. Paul Bigot de Morogues, librarian of Prince Rasumowsky, reports a visit by Beethoven in 1806 during which his wife Marie Bigot de Morogues (1786–1820) played from the manuscript, which was „noch ganz nassen“ from the storm (TDR II p. 255).
Sketches: DB, Mus. SM. autogr. Beethoven Mend. Stift. 15 (“Mendelssohn 15”, “Leonore”), pp. 182, 187, 198 and 203. Dating: August 1804 or summer 1805.
Fair copy of the work: F-Pc (in: Pn), Ms 20. Model for engraving.
Title: Sheet 1 recto “Sonata”. 22 sheets; 42 pages of musical text. Sheets 1 recto/21 verso. Sheet 22 blank. Paper: horizontal format, 22 x 30.5 cm, 12 staves. Severe water damage; Sheet 19 with loss of text: staves 1–3 as well as parts at the margins of staves 4 and 5 cut out and replaced by a (defective) copy written by an unknown hand. (photo)
Provenance: Gift (1807) from Beethoven to the pianist Marie Bigot de Morogues. — 1852 from her husband Paul Bigot de Morogues to Rene-Paul Baillot (Conservatory professor) (Geiser/Switzerland p. 114f). — After his death in 1889 at F-Pc. — Since 1964 at F-Pn.
Facsimiles: Paris, L’Edition d’Art H. Piazza, 1927 (reprinted by Peters, Leipzig, 1970). — Tokyo, Edizione Ongaku no Tome, 1972. — Melbourne, Allans Publishing Pty. Limited, c. 1989. Laaber, Laaber-Verlag, 2011. — Gallica.
Description: Frohlich/Op57 pages 128–131.
Original Edition 1807 (February). Vienna, Kunst- und Industrie-Comptoir (Bureau des Arts et d’industrie), VN/PN 521. — Title:
“LIVme / SONATE / composée pour Pianoforte / et dediée / à Monsieur le Comte François de Brunsvik / par / Louis van Beethoven. / Opera 57. / [1.:] 521. [r.:] 2 f- 30 / A Vienne au Bureau des Arts et d’industrie.” — Horizontal format. 25 pages (page 1 title).
Jacques Charlier Opus 5:
“Seconde Valse sur les motifs de la Sonate Appasionata (!) de Beethoven pour piano seul”.
