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FIGURE LVII.

And this highly imaginative method of treating the transitions or connecting passages is one of the fundamental differences between the variations of Haydn and Mozart and those of Beethoven "A priori," [47] says Mr. Hadow, "it would be easy to conjecture that the variation form is unsatisfactory. It affords little scope for structural organization, little for episode or adventure, it seems to have no higher aim than that of telling the same story in the largest possible number of different words. Indeed, composers before Beethoven are often in evident straits to maintain its interest." An examination of any set of variations by an inferior composer will reveal just the defects Mr. Hadow refers to. But Beethoven not only tells the story in quite different words, but finds opportunity for all sorts of interesting episodes and adventures, so that the structural weakness of the form is quite lost sight of. With him the connecting passages skillfully avoid too great stress on pure melody—with which the listeners would otherwise be surfeited—and, at the same time, they never degenerate into unmeaning passages of empty chords and scales such as often occurred in the music of Haydn and Mozart.

IV. THE HARMONIC PLAN.

The recurrence in the same key of the theme in the variation form gives to it a certain monotony of harmonization unless the episodes are treated with great harmonic freedom. As was pointed out in Chapter II, harmony sometimes becomes an important element of structure, particularly in the rondo and variation forms, and in Haydn's and Mozart's variations the harmonic plan is not sufficiently varied to provide this much needed contrast. Beethoven, however, always much more free in the use of modulation than his predecessors, imparts to these variations almost at the outset great variety of key, and in all his episodes ranges freely about, unhampered by limitations. In measure 28, for example, he suddenly starts towards the key of B-flat minor, only to emerge a moment later in C-major. The passage, beginning at measure 39, not only provides that relief from too great insistence on melody which we have already referred to as characteristic of his episodes, but its harmonies are purposely vague, leaving us in doubt until the last moment as to their ultimate conclusion. An interesting and beautiful effect is again produced, at measures 167-177, by the changes of key, while the scale passages that follow introduce further harmonic variety. At measure 206 begins a passage that seems to intend the key of D-flat, but again our expectations are not realized. So that the total impression we receive from the harmony of this movement is of a more complete unity and variety than is produced by the themes themselves.

It must also be noted in general that this freedom of harmony is one of the signs of advancement in the art of music, and that at the present time the combination of chords is much less restricted than was the case in Beethoven's day. And this steady advance has been as steadily opposed by theorists. When we remember that Monteverde (1567-1643) was bitterly criticised for introducing in a chord the unprepared dominant seventh, making thereby a dissonance almost as familiar to modern ears as is the simple major triad—we can easily realize how difficult it was for people in Beethoven's time to understand his far-reaching modulations. The steady progress is further illustrated by Wagner's music-dramas, which were considered when they first appeared as almost cacophonous in their harmonization, but which now seem perfectly simple and normal.

V. THE UNIVERSALITY OF BEETHOVEN'S GENIUS.

A piece of music like this is a human document. It embraces so many phases of human feeling, and it places them all, as it were, in such proper focus that we feel in listening to it as though we had come in contact with elemental human experience. This music is not unapproachably grand; we hear in it echoes of our own strivings, hopes, and despairs. And it is this sense of proportion, this wideness of vision, that makes Beethoven's music so universal. For in the last analysis the effect of any work of art depends on the artist's sense of values; a fine situation in a novel is all the finer for being set against a proper background; a tragedy must have moments of relief; beauty alone, whether in a painting or a piece of music, soon palls upon us; in the greatest works of art this sense of values—this feeling for proportion—is always present to save the situation (whatever it may be) from the deadly sin of being uninteresting.

Beethoven continually gives evidence of his mastery over this important element in composition. The beauty of his melodies never palls. Before that point is reached there is some sudden change of feeling, some unexpected turn of melody or modulation, some brusque expression that shocks us out of our dream. He is particularly fond of the latter device, and frequently lulls us into a fancied quiet only to awaken us abruptly when we least expect it. With him everything has its proportionate value, so that we get a clearly defined impression of the whole work, just as in a fine novel the values are so carefully preserved that we feel the locality of every incident, and come to know the characters as we know our own friends.