Friday, June 30, 2006

Humiliated by Beethoven

If I had to be completely outplayed and humiliated by someone in a musical confrontation, I'd probably choose someone of the likes of Beethoven as to make sure there could be no shame in the matter. Enter one Daniel Steibelt.

Our friend Daniel was born in the grand old year of 1765, a Prussian of sorts. His life as a composer was generally quite mediocre, he wrote an alright version of Romeo and Juliet and was considered a pretty good pianist. But perhaps the pinnacle of his career, or at least the one moment history will remember him for, was when he was played off the stage by one Ludwig van Beethoven. The story goes something like this;

Steibelt was a bit of a musical pilgrim, for most of his life he didn't hang around anywhere long. In 1800 he decided to trudge over to Vienna to show to the aristocricy his amazing piano skills. Piano improvisation duels were common and popular entertainment in those days, if only it still was. A theme would be given for two, or sometimes more, pianists to first elaborate on and then become more and more virtuosic before one would be declared the winner. Often each pianist was sponsered by different or fueding nobles/rich old men, so much was at stake in the contests. At the time, everyone knew that Beethoven was the improvising master of Vienna, as well as its most loved composer and pianist. For some strange reason, Steibelt decided to take the amatuer on in a duel. Perhaps Grove's assessment of his personality sheds light on this choice, 'extraordinarily vain, arrogant, discourteous, recklessly extaravagant and even dishonest.'

The stage was set at Count von Fries in May 1800. As the challenger, Steibelt played first. The piece would be a theme from a new cello work he had just written. Steibelt had made a small name for himself as a pianist able to create a 'storm' effect by extensive tremelo usage in the lower octaves - in the first round of the battle, he impressed the crowd with this effect. The crowd loved it and he walked off the stage to a raptous applause. At this point we can only imagine Beethoven sighing as he quietly shuffled to the piano. He could still hear quite well at this point in his life, so it wouldn't have been hard to notice that everyone was cheering for him. He picked up the sheet of music Steibelt had played from, turned it upside down and began improvising on the now mirror imaged notes. Based on just four now slightly random notes, Beethoven stunned the audience with several variations and embellishments. Steibelt was so humiliated and outplayed that he didn't even rise for a second round, but walked out in shame. His greatest achievement in life had just been completed, poor guy. Daniel promised never return to Vienna again, and he didn't. It would be the last time Beethoven was challenged to a duel...strange.

So why am I writing this? Apart from being a bit of a music nerds joke, I myself now have good reason to be interested in the life of Daniel Steibelt. On my 18th birthday in May, 206 years after the duel, I got a small surprise when I opened my single present to find a small score of music. This was the front cover before me (for some reason I can't post the image of the front cover as I had planned - I will try and post it soon);
It is written,
Steibelt's
Celebtrated
Pastorale
In which is introduced
An imitation of a Storm
------
London
Printed & Sold at J&G Balls
Mufic Warehouse, 408, Oxford Street
------
Op. 33 - Price 3 s.
------
where may be had the Concerto with compleat (sic) accompaniments. Price 8s.
***************************
It turns out that this score was printed in, or very close, to 1820. The piece of music is a piano reduction of the Rondo from Stiebelt's Piano Concerto in Eb (no 3.). The movement became very very popular around Europe, especially in England where this was printed around 20 years after the piece was originally composed. It would be like purchising a score of 'Let it be' in 1990 - it wasn't published by the Beatles, but considered so popular that everyone wanted to play it at home (though in 1820, not all that many people had personal piano's).
The score is in amazing condition considering it's 186 years old. There is no part that could not be played from the score - the print work remains precise. For some nerdy reason, I find great beauty in these printed notes. I find it hard to believe that this sort of thing could have been tossed around the practice room, much like my music isn't particulary well looked after. The music itself doesn't seem particularly insightful. Though I haven't heard it, (or ever seen a CD), the work appears to alternate between bland alberti basses, unimaginative octave passages and dull cadenza's. He also seems to give all but one orchestral solo to the oboe. But none of this worries me. The story of Steibelt, the condition of the music and its cultural history are its most valuable assests. Original prints such as this in this condition are rare at the best of times, though you'd be even more hard pressed to find prints of the really famous composers. I feel truly grateful to own this music and will treasure it hopefully beyond its 200th birthday.
It might seem strange that this piece, despite its popularity, managed to fade into oblivion. But if you think about the interesting topic of music history, it's often the most popular pieces that are shown up as the simple frauds that they are over time, while the music that searches for something more meaningful, rather than to please the masses, usually manages to hold its place. That is why most of us have never heard of Stiebelt, but it's a crime to not know of Beethoven. It's the same with music today. In a hundred years, hopefully none of the puerile trash being pumped out by the music industry will be remembered, but shown up as the frauds that they are. But for the moment, we will, to our shame, and like the 1820 Brits, be caught up in the hype of the moment and forget what true music is. At least the music publishers made a lot of money.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home