To the warm feeling of Cramer for Beethoven I owe the more important matters.... Cherubini, disposed to be curt, characterized Beethoven’s pianoforte playing in a single word: “rough.” The gentleman Cramer, however, desired that less offence be taken at the rudeness of his performance than at the unreliable reading of one and the same composition—one day intellectually brilliant and full of characteristic expression, the next freakish to the verge of unclearness; often confused. (Which is confirmed by Ries, Czerny and others.) Because of this a few friends expressed a wish to hear Cramer play several works publicly from the manuscript. This touched a sensitive spot in Beethoven; his jealousy was aroused and, according to Cramer, their relations became strained.
This strain, however, left no such sting behind it as to diminish Cramer’s good opinion of Beethoven both as man and artist, or hinder his free expression of it. To this fact the concurrent testimony of his widow and son, and those enthusiasts for Beethoven Charles Neate, Cipriani Potter and others who knew Cramer well, bear witness. It was the conversation of Cramer about Beethoven which induced Potter, after the fall of Napoleon, to journey to Vienna, to make the acquaintance of the great master and, if possible, become his pupil.
Cramer’s musical gods were Handel and Mozart, notwithstanding his life-long love for Bach’s clavier compositions; hence the abrupt transitions, the strange modulations, and the, until then, unheard passages, which Beethoven introduced ever more freely into his works—many of which have not yet found universal acceptance—were to him, as to Tomaschek and so many other of his contemporaries, imperfections and distortions of compositions, which but for them were models of beauty and harmonious proportion. He once gave this feeling utterance with comic exaggeration, when Potter, then a youth, was extolling some abstruse combinations, by saying: “If Beethoven emptied his inkstand upon a piece of music paper you would admire it!”
Upon Beethoven’s demeanor in society, Schindler proceeds thus:
Beethoven’s Demeanor in Society
The communications of both (Cramer and Madame Cherubini) agreed in saying that in mixed society his conduct was reserved, stiff and marked by artist’s pride; whereas among his intimates he was droll, lively, indeed, voluble at times, and fond of giving play to all the arts of wit and sarcasm, not always wisely especially in respect of political and social prejudices. To this the two were able to add much concerning his awkwardness in taking hold of such objects as glasses, coffee cups, etc., to which Master Cherubini added the comment: “Toujours brusque.” These statements confirmed what I had heard from his older friends touching the social demeanor of Beethoven in general.
Cramer reached Vienna early in September, and remained there, according to Schindler, through the following winter; but he does not appear to have given any public concerts, although, during the first month of his stay, we learn from a newspaper, he “earned general and deserved applause by his playing.” It is needless to dwell upon the advantages to Beethoven of constant intercourse for several months with a master like Cramer, whose noblest characteristics as pianist were the same as Mozart’s, and precisely those in which Beethoven was deficient.
Let us pass in review the compositions which had their origin in the years 1798 and 1799. First of all come the three Trios for stringed instruments, Op. 9. The exact date of their conception has not yet been determined, all that is positive being that Beethoven sold them to Traeg on March 16, 1798, and that the publisher’s announcement of them appeared on July 21st of the same year. The only sketches for the Trios quoted by Nottebohm show them in connection with a sketch for the last movement of the “Sonate pathétique,” which was published in 1799; but this proves nothing. It may be easily imagined that Beethoven desired to make more extended use of the experience gained in writing the Trios, Op. 3, and that he therefore began sketching Op. 9 in 1796 or 1797. Beethoven dedicated the works to Count Browne in words such as could hardly have been called forth by the present of a horse. Perhaps some future investigator will be able to show upon what grounds Beethoven in the dedication called Count Browne his “first Mæcenas,” a title better deserved by Prince Lichnowsky.
The First Two Pianoforte Concertos