Dun, dun, dun daaaaaaaa

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve always had one composer in my life that makes me fall further in love with my cello and classical music the more I listen to his music. Good day or bad, he was always there for me in one way or another. I grew up on his symphonies and played his quartets. I read his letters of poetry and studied his scores. If it wasn’t for this one composer, it is doubtful I would be so captivated by music like I am today.

For me, that one composer was Beethoven. I know it may seem a bit generic but Ludwig Van Beethoven is and will always be my favorite composer. He changed my life. Some of my first musical memories are listening to his 9^th symphony. And I can still remember today sitting down to the piano and playing “The Fifth Symphony” from my first piano book. Who can’t recognize the opening theme? (Dun, dun, dun daaaaaaaa.. dun, dun, dun daaaaa.) Even from my ‘younger’ days, Beethoven had an obvious effect on my life but as I got older and became more advanced in my cello playing his music became more than just music I liked.

I was fortunate enough last year to be able to travel to Germany for a month as part of an exchange program. While I wasn’t miserable there, I would be lying if I said I was happy. I was thrilled to speak the language I had been studying and to be in another country, but I had never been separated from my cello for more than a week. I thought I would be able to handle a month of separation but of course there is always something to make matters worse. For the first two and a half weeks, I had no contact with home. Not through internet, or phone. I felt completely isolated and out of place. It was definitely a challenge and as the weeks seemed to be passing by like months I quickly became an emotional mess. I was more than ready to be home by the third week and counted down not just the days, but the hours.

The third weekend I was there though, my host family decided to take me to Bonn, Germany. For those of you who don’t know, Bonn is the city where my beloved composer Beethoven was born. The plan was to visit his birth house. I was truly ecstatic. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever been more thrilled. It definitely tops going to Disneyworld when I was five! As we walked up the street, every so often there would be a picture of a composer and their name in the sidewalk; Clara and Robert Schumann, Edward Elgar, J.S.Bach and all the greats. And then, right in front of his house, Ludwig Van Beethoven. The house was small and obviously very old but absolutely lovely.

 As I walked in the door it was like the weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It wasn’t just being in Beethoven’s house that made me feel better, but it was being with musicians and fellow Beethoven-lovers. For the next few hours I didn’t just wander through his home, but I spoke with musicians who loved him just as much as I did. I talked with an old lady from New York about her life of playing Beethoven piano sonata’s and concertos and how she had always wanted to visit his home. She told me a few stories about performances of her favorite Sonata’s and she expressed to me that more than any other composer, she loved him the most. She couldn’t express why, but it had always been that way.

I walked through the exhibit and found myself asking that same question. Why do I love Beethoven so much? I listened to the audio tour and saw such meaningless things that were so important at the same time. His eyeglasses? Walking cane? Quills? All simple stuff really. Let me clarify, there were also amazing items like his instruments, portraits, scores and pianos. But even the small simple items had extreme meaning just because they were his. It seems slightly weird doesn’t? To find such value you in a quill? But when you think about it, it isn’t really that strange at all. How many men have effected billions of people, been listened to by hundreds of generations, and will be appreciated by the next hundred. What an incredible power Beethoven had.

At the very end of the tour were Beethoven’s scores. As part of the audio tour they gave to listening clips; one of what Beethoven would have heard of the Fifth Symphony, and then one what he would have heard of his Ninth Symphony. I must have looked like a blubbering buffoon, but I just started sobbing. To be completely deaf is one thing, but to hear only muffled sounds and muted tones is maddening. It was like being outside a concert hall. You can hear that music is being played but it is impossible to know exactly what is being played and you can never ever know. I’d never been able to imagine Beethoven’s sorrow and I still can’t today, but that was the closest I had ever come.

To this day, I have a hard time not crying when I listen to any Beethoven piece. His music will always have a special place in my heart and I will always love playing his music more than any other composer. I look forward to figuring out why Beethoven has such a hold on me and that little old lady and what makes his music so different.