The magical melodies of Ludwig van Beethoven resounded through the hall. Antonietta Cappelli, Eleonora Zambon, Michelle Candian, Eva Maria Soceanu and Mattia Fattoretto shared unique emotions on the “Steinway to Heaven” stage. A magnificent Steinway & Sons concert grand took pride of place in the Zin musical instrument store in Padua, surrounded by glass walls and a beautiful room framed by pianos and instruments of every kind.

“Beethoven and Folk Melodies” was the title chosen for the event, as the composer – beloved by young and old alike – employs musical structures that captivate listeners of every social background and nationality. The Nine German Dances, all written in major keys, convey joy and an irresistible desire to celebrate.

I conceived them as very simple pieces: a gentle opening, gradually building in intensity. Their structure unfolded as follows: the first and second closely linked; the third and fourth standing alone; the fifth ethereal and delicate; the sixth and seventh paired together; and the eighth and ninth intimate and companionable.

I allowed myself a degree of interpretative licence with the sixth and seventh dances, imagining them as a single piece shaped in the sonata form so dear to Classicism, ABA. Both little dances are in C major, yet they display contrasting characters: the first lively, evoking the circular motion typical of rustic dances; the second calmer and more tranquil, as though the circle were opening and the dancers, now facing one another, arranged themselves in two rows, arms outstretched to form a bridge beneath which couples pass one by one (suggested by descending scale passages), before returning to the more pressing circular motion of the opening.

These dances were followed by the Gavotte and the Marcia lugubre Anhang 08, more refined in character. The former reflects its formal features (duple metre, an upbeat opening, moderate tempo, and an elegant, graceful style); the latter recalls a slow, ostentatious marching dance. The epithet “lugubre” suggests scenes of professional mourners – the praeficae of ancient Greece and Rome. At moments the piece feels tragic, at others almost comic, detached and surreal. One can almost hear the bass drums shaping the funereal rhythm and the persistent lamentations that intensify after the refrain of the first section, gradually fading away towards the close.

This was followed by the “Presto”, the third movement of the celebrated Piano Sonata Op. 2 No. 1, which conjures an almost infernal dance softened here and there by lyrical, radiant elements; the “Alla tedesca”, first movement of the Sonata Op. 79, offering folk-like themes and dance rhythms; the gentle sweetness of the Barcarolle (Biamonti 816), which in just a few bars conveys both melancholy and a longing for renewal; and finally the Rondo Op. 51 No. 1, to which I would like to devote a few reflections. Published in 1797 by Artaria in Vienna, it may in fact have been composed much earlier, given its thematic richness and formal uncertainty.

The principal theme recurs frequently, justifying the title “Rondo”, yet the other themes possess such distinct character that they almost suggest the form of a song. Indeed, it seems to me a kind of union between Rondo and song-form. The beauty of this piece and its abundance of thematic material are undeniable – so abundant that it could well inspire an entire opera.

In this regard, while Eva was performing it, I sensed that (from the second beat of bar 60 to the first beat of bar 66) there may be a faint resemblance to the celebrated aria “La donna è mobile” from Rigoletto by Giuseppe Verdi. The little theme begins at bar 60 and ends at bar 62, then over the following four bars it is varied and modulated before unfolding into a descending run of semiquavers.