Sixty Six Minutes & Forty Eight Seconds.......

Sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds! My stop watch recorded the exact time, as around me standing audience members cheered and applauded. Sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds. In half a life time of attending concerts at Nottingham’s Royal Centre I can only ever recall one other concert when there was a full throated standing ovation for a performance – and that was for the same work many years ago. The usually reserved Nottingham concert going public are a pretty staid and sober lot; where in other venues a performance of Mahler’s 1^st, Brahms’ 1^st, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No 2 or Tchaikovsky’s 4^th are always likely to bring the audience to its feet, here in Nottingham a more restrained atmosphere pervades our concerts.

From the back at Nottingham's Royal Centre

But not so last night when under the wonderful direction of Mark Elder, The Halle gave a glorious performance of unarguably one of the world’s greatest works (if not the greatest symphonic work), Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony, more usually referred to as the Ninth or the Choral. Beethoven’s final symphony is one of the defining works of all music and indeed, it can be argued with much justification that it is one of the defining works of history and society. From the date of its first performance almost 200 years ago it has been accepted as not only Beethoven’s greatest achievement but to rank equally with the other crowning musical achievements of our culture and history: Bach’s St Matthew Passion, Bach’s B Minor Mass, Mahler’s 5^th Symphony, or Beethoven’s Late String Quartets. The Ninth, however, has another dimension – it speaks of mankind and our very humanity. Where Bach’s great works are in essence spiritual in nature the Choral is about mankind and our capacity to love each other and unite as fellow travellers in time and space. And as such, in recent months it has assumed an even greater prominence and place in the hearts and minds of men and women. As the anthem of the European Community the words of the Ninth have, in the past half century as the EU  has grown, developed and been the agent for friendship and cooperation between the countries of Europe, epitomised the ideal to which all Europe has aspired. In the past three years since the UK, unwisely, ungraciously, ungratefully and unforgivably, decided to reject the friendship and cooperation of our European compatriots by leaving the EU, Beethoven’s 9^th has become the anthem of all those who reject Brexit and its crude, unthinking, nationalistic populism. As the reaction of last night’s audience showed the ideals and beliefs of the EU are still very much alive here in Nottingham.

Mark Elder as we saw him last night

From the first muted reflective notes of the opening movement and through the movement’s driving rhythms  the power of the work was tangible. Mark Elder dragged every bit of passion, power and joy from Beethoven’s score. The opening movement gave way to the much loved and lyrical second movement and thence to the achingly beautiful and almost spiritual third movement  - surely one of the world’s very great movements. And then......and then.....the fourth movement was upon us, heralding in the majestic and glorious choral sections of the Ninth . The four soloists declaimed the opening words of Schiller’s great poem and the choir, sitting high above the Halle answered them; powerful, ethereal, spiritual, joyous, overwhelming, Beethoven’s music and Schiller’s  mighty words united everyone sitting in  Nottingham’s Royal Centre. Was I the only one – I think not, judging by the expressions and body language of those sitting around us – to feel humbled and overcome but at the same time excited and exhilarated at what I was seeing and hearing? Was I the only one to wipe a tear from my eye as I heard once again the glorious words of Schiller’s poem and heard again the majestic music of Beethoven. I know this work as well as I know the lines on my own face and hands and yet it still has the power to overcome and to make even the greatest, most confident and most brash amongst us feel small and insignificant.

And that was why, after sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds the sell out audience erupted as they did. They knew that they had heard a wonderful performance of a work that spoke to them both as humans and as spiritual beings – it was, in short the very essence of their humanity.

And, sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds – why on earth did I set my stop watch as the first wistful notes echoed through the Royal Centre and stopped it as the final notes died away and the ringing cheers rang out around the Royal Centre!  To find out read the piece below. Almost exactly a year ago the Writers’ Group which I lead were tasked with writing a piece on the theme of “The Life of ..........” I chose to write about the life of Beethoven’s Ninth and the answer to my question is there! You can read what I wrote 12 months ago below:

“You millions I embrace you......”                     

                        
Like all children I was born out of love, but my genesis was not from physical love but mankind’s desire for brotherhood, love and peace. My father had many offspring and some who were still born or died before entering the world – their beauty and sound never witnessed by mankind. Those however, like me, who survived their creation came into the world strong and complete and were received well by the world, many becoming household names. But I, it is said by many, am the greatest of his offspring. I know not if this is true – who am I to judge? – but I cannot escape the fact that since the very day of my first appearance I have been lauded and praised. Even today – though two centuries have passed since my birth, people flock to me, often moved to tears in my presence. And now, though I am old and my father long dead, I, like my brothers and sisters, go on, perhaps for as long as there is mankind.

A page from Beethoven's original manuscript

Before I was conceived I was but isolated fragments, thoughts in my father’s mind; unconnected, swirling, as he laboured in his silent Viennese world. But these unformed ideas slowly took shape and, I can still well remember the day, when came my conception; my form set for all time, even though I was yet still no more than ideas. My father sat by candlelight reading the works of the great Schiller and reading those mighty words from Schiller’s pen transformed my father. He was inspired, overcome, ecstatic; and his ideas, my very essence, was that day in 1822 created; I was conceived into what I would become:

“O friends, no more of these sounds! Let us sing more cheerful songs, More songs full of joy! Joy! Joy!

........Whoever has created an abiding friendship, Or has won a true and loving wife,

.........All who can call at least one soul theirs, then join our song of praise........

You millions, I embrace you, this kiss is for all the world!.........

Brothers, above the starry canopy there must dwell a loving father.

Do you fall in worship, you millions? World, do you know your creator?

.......Seek Him in the heavens above the stars must he dwell.”

Friedrich Schiller

My father had wrestled with his ideas of Schiller’s poem for several years but in 1817 he received a commission from the Philharmonic Society of London to write a new symphony celebrating the great peace after the wars of Napoleon and Schiller’s words spoke to him.  The commission had requested a symphony to celebrate “the love, friendship and brotherhood of all Europe’s mankind and the desire for the peace of all nations”; it was with this, and Schiller’s words, that I was conceived. But my father – the greatest musical name in Europe no longer taught, performed or conducted; his deafness had robbed him of all contact with the world, so on accepting this commission he was forced to request an advance payment which was agreed. He received £50 and later £100 from the Philharmonic Society of London. A century later, that great Englishman George Bernard Shaw described the payments as “the only honourable and creditable acts in the whole of English history”.

The First Edition of the Score - held by the  Philharmonic Society of London

For seven more years I germinated in my father’s mind, his pen scratching out my form on manuscript paper – I, however, was still unheard, unseen, not yet of this world. As he wrote his mind was filled, too, with other of his children, my exquisite and small brothers and sisters, the Late String Quartets thought by many to be the defining works of all string music.  But slowly, as the months passed I emerged until, at last, excited whispers spread through Vienna’s Kaffeehauses and salons, Master Beethoven has a new work, one that will use voices as well as instruments; what manner of music is this, the people asked in wonder?

And the word spread. So thrilled and expectant was the whole city that the greatest players and singers of the age and from all of Europe flocked to be given a part in the first performance. And as excitement gripped Vienna, my father was reluctantly persuaded that he must be the musical director for the occasion, his first time at the podium for more than twelve years. So new and complex was I that my father re-wrote and amended me until hours before the performance; leaving no time for rehearsal or for the players and singers of the largest orchestra and choir ever to be assembled to come together – and all for a work that no-one had heard, not even my father who knew me only in his mind and not in his ears.

The Halle in their home concert hall - The Bridgwater in Manchester

The great night arrived. The Corinthian Theatre had not an seat empty and the aisles and even the corridors were crushed with excited guests who had travelled from all over Europe. All fell hushed and silent, as my father, now an ailing man, was helped onto the stage and the baton placed in his hand. And at last was I born, brought into the world, a fully formed child. The Wiener Zeitung newspaper was correct, for I witnessed it, that my father “threw himself back and forth like a madman. At one moment he stretched to his full height, at the next he crouched down to the floor, he flailed about with his hands and feet as though he himself wanted to play all the instruments and sing all the chorus parts”.

For seventy long minutes the audience sat transfixed, overwhelmed at what they heard; but my father conducting knew nought but silence, hearing me, his child only in his mind. As the final movement opened there were gasps and cries of surprise and wonder from the audience as the soloists and choir declaimed Schiller’s mighty words: The Ode to Joy. Such music had never before been heard; the words they knew, for they knew and loved Schiller, but never like this, speaking of a new world of love of life and mankind, of friendship, and of God’s great plan for all men and all nations. My birth had “brought a new world” proclaimed the news sheets and the table gossip of the Kaffeehauses and salons of Vienna and of all Europe.

Beethoven conducting the Ninth from a 

contemporary sketch

As my last triumphal notes rang out the audience burst into feverish applause; the reporter from The Times of London ran, wild eyed from his seat, pushed through the crowded aisles and out onto Vienna’s dark streets shouting “I have heard the voice of God, the world is renewed, never has such music been heard.”   The Theater-Zeitung newsheet, told the whole of Vienna that "The public broke out in jubilant applause acclaiming Master  Beethoven through five standing ovations and many ladies were overcome; there was crying out and handkerchiefs and scarves thrown into the air, hats raised, gentlemen cheered so that Master Beethoven, who could not hear the applause, could at least see the ovations.”  It was true, my father heard not the applause and the love of the crowd; as my final note died he rested his baton and stood, still facing the orchestra and choir. All was silent and unknown to him until the kindly young solo contralto Caroline Unger stepped forward and gently turned him around to witness Vienna and all Europe’s mighty cheers and approval.

It has always been thus and I am now two centuries old - I make mankind both weep and cheer in equal measure as I remind them of the love of their fellow men. Mankind turns to me when he is lost or is joyous, feels threatened or he wishes to celebrate peace; I was performed in joyous celebration following the fall of the Berlin Wall, and to bring hope following the dreadful attacks on New York’s twin towers. I was performed too, to remember the centenary of the end of the Great War. In Germany, Austria and Japan I am performed every year in the last hour of the old year as the clock ticks to midnight to remind those nations of mankind’s love of his brothers and the peace of nations in the coming New Year.

I am played often each year as the anthem of the United Nations and of the European Union – an honour that I know my father, Schiller and indeed the good members of the Philharmonic Society of London would have greatly approved since the love and friendship of mankind and the peace of Europe was why I was first commissioned. It is a sadness to me that many in England, the country that first commissioned me, now reject me as they reject the European Union, the organisation whose anthem I am and whose quest is the peaceful brotherhood of Europe. It is a sadness too, that as all men must, my father died only a few years after I was born. I was his last major work so he did not live to see my fame spread but he would have been proud to know that many call me one of mankind’s supreme achievements.

Von Karajan conducting the Ninth

I live on, immortal; and just as mankind grows from infant to adult I too, have grown and changed. Since that balmy May 1824 Vienna night I have become the most performed symphonic work in the world’s concert halls. For the world’s greatest musicians, conductors and singers to perform me is often the pinnacle of their careers. But I have spread beyond the concert platform and now exist in the homes of man. I travel the radio waves to the furthest corners of the world and was, in my past, grooves on plastic vinyl records, my father’s music and Schiller’s words being scraped out by a needle and pushed through gramophone horns. In 1982, when the Sony and Philips corporations developed the compact disc I was crucial. These mighty companies wished that the new CD would be exactly 60 minutes long but they also knew that the first discs to go on sale would be expensive – only the wealthy would be able to afford to buy them. The only artist who would be able, because of his popularity amongst wealthier purchasers of music, to sell enough of the new discs and the necessary equipment to play them and thus make the whole venture commercially worthwhile was the legendary conductor Herbert von Karajan; he would be vital to the success of the first disc. When he was approached however, the Maestro had one unalterable stipulation: that the first CD produced for sale, must be of me, my father’s Ninth Symphony, and I must be heard in my entirety without interruption. “Only the 9^th“ said Maestro von Karajan “has the range and dynamics to show off the new technology and the great qualities of the Berlin Philharmonic and the singers that I will use; and only the 9^th is the only work worthy of such a venture”. And so it was; Von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic performed me and the event was timed – it lasted 66.9 minutes. My longest ever performance had been that of the greatest of conductors Wilhelm Furtwängler who had stretched me to 74.6 minutes – thus, from that day it was agreed that all CDs produced must have a standard recording time available of at least 74 and 33 seconds so that I amongst all of mankind’s music, might always be heard without interruption.

The Ninth still today dictates

the industry standard for CD 

manufacture

Of course, since then I have changed and changed again, now I am streamed in digital code via computers and have even become ring tones on telephones – my father would be truly overcome. He wrote in one of his conversation books, kept so that he might converse with visitors to his silent world:“You can resist an invading army but you cannot resist an idea whose time has come”. I was that idea whose time had come and was first set out in the commission from the Philharmonic Society of London to “speak of the love, friendship and brotherhood of all Europe.”  Let it be so: “You millions, I embrace you, this kiss is for all the world!”

Sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds of the world's most sublime music which speaks of what it is to be human; sixty six minutes and forty eight seconds...…"You millions, I embrace you, this kiss is for all the world"!