# Silly critique of Beethoven's G minor Fantasy, op. 77



## Cosmos (Jun 28, 2013)

For an online course on Beethoven's piano sonatas, the most recent assignment was to review one of the listed sonatas either by 1. pretending you are a critic at the time, or 2. pretending the work was published recently. I chose the first route and, because I am always itching to express my creative side, decided to "borrow" Robert's Schumann's template of reviews by having a conversation with two "characters" of my personality. The result is my own critique of the pros and cons of the work, in a prose/dialogue format that (hopefully) is more fun to read.

P.s. Pardon the vernacular, I am not going to even pretend that I know how people spoke in the early 1800's. If it sounds off, of if there are glaring historical inaccuracies, I apologize. Remember, it's just fiction and I'm only being graded on the view, not the presentation. And it's a free course where I'm evaluated by my peer, so I doubt they will care too much :lol:

She stood at the window, a white shawl over her shoulders. Her white dress flows as she turns to tell me, "He's here."
I sip my tea. It is bitter. "What do you suppose this big surprise is?"
"I am not sure," Florence came to the table to sit with me, "But these past few weeks, he's tried so hard not to spoil it. I'm sure today will be very relieving." She sipped her tea without much enthusiasm.
I heard his footsteps rush up the stairs and pause outside the door of my flat. I stood up before the pounding knocks cracked at my ears. "Fontaine? It's Emanuel."
"I'm aware," I can't help but laugh as I open the door. 
My good friend came in with his wolfish grin and a score clutched in his hands. He beamed, "You will never believe what Vienna's genius has come up with next."
"Herr Beethoven?" Florence piped up behind me, with happy curiosity, "Is it a new piano sonata?"
"Not a sonata, but it is for the piano. A fantasy in G minor." He nearly danced to my keyboard, tucked away near the other window. "It is quite wild and imaginative. I gave myself a month to practice and perfect my playing before showing you two. It's monstrously difficult at times, but I believe I've tamed this beast."
Florence stood up and we made our way to the parlor chairs next to the piano. She asked, "By imaginative do you mean his A-flat Major 'Funeral March' sonata, or his C-sharp minor so called 'Moonlight' sonata?"
Acting in his usual sly attitude, "Well, Madame, that is up for you to decide."
"I do hope it is in the vein of the A-flat," She admitted, "That is quite a delightful work."
"Well," I gestured with my hand, "No need to keep this surprise hidden any longer. Play for us."
That he did. And how unpleasantly surprised I was.
It was like a conversation between different builders of Babel. With great sound and fury, Emmanuel's fingers danced through the keyboard without direction. The moment I recognized a melody, a new one took its place. The piece was so undecided, confused, and after long I no longer decided to try and predict what direction it would take. The opening flourish, which I later realized was the only known motif to connect the other abandoned infants of the work, lead to the only g minor lamentation. This so-called "G minor Fantasy" is a hoax title. We are then taken to a sunny day, which fades into a rapid, agitated series of harsh finger work. Now the energy has picked up into a strange, play between tempest and jumping dance. Pause, for a breath. And now, a calmer adagio, water shimmering over a pond. Alright, I suppose, I don't see how the first sections really can lead to this. The introductory motif whispers within the bars. Of course, that is wisped away, and again the piano is storming, rushing passages over the ivory. This is uncontrolled passion. 
But, now a slow transition into a calm melody of noble quality. I soon realize that this is the theme for the short set of variations that comprises of the piece's second half. Variation 1 leaps like a frog along the boundaries of the melody. Var. 2 is an echo between the two hands. Var. 3 is a fun toccata. Var. 4 is like a soothing song, almost an andante, which ends with broken octaves. Var. 5 hammers in the bass and flourishes in the treble. Var. 6 is a set of shameless major chords enunciating the melody, while the left hand rushes up and down the keyboard. The intro flourish transitions into the middle portion of the variation. Again, andante, almost nostalgia in its harmonic direction. Then, we go back to the first part, with happy chords and frantic runs. A short adagio and quick wisp ends the work, in a better mood than it began.
Right at the last note, Emanuel jumped and spun toward us, his grin wider than usual, and asked with a bright face, "Well? Was that not exciting?"
Part 2 is the Beethoven I know and love, the Beethoven that so many celebrate as a great composer and an even more impressive improviser. This was obviously an improvisation, but not one I would ever publish. Part 1? Madness. It makes the piece weak and unplayable. And the virtuosic piano writing? Made unnecessary by the first half. What is the payoff? There is none. Before I share my views, I let my friends speak.
Florence broke the awkward silence with the same criticism that I thought, "I hated it. The work is all over the place…it sounds too rough cut…it has no direction for most of it. Is it even in G minor? No, it's in several keys! If this is how the Master improvises, then I really don't see what the appeal is. I've heard better improvisations before, some which were more cohesive, at least, and those are ones that haven't been written down for publication. H. Beethoven should have discarded the first half, and polish the second half more. I'm astonished he'd think this work worthy of publication!"
I nodded along, "I have to agree. The variations were charming, but the first half really throws my attention away. Especially since H. Beethoven has written so much piano music with more…substance."
But Emanuel's smile did not die out, "Aha, but I believe H. Beethoven insisted on confusing us. It is as if he were recreating his own method of thought. I think it's brilliant. It's as if he is taking the listener into his mind, following his composition process. First, he creates a new theme, tries to work with it, but then discards it and follows completely different direction…until finally he finds a theme and makes variations out of it. No, it is not his greatest work as of late, but it is very personal in a sense. Also, the keyboard writing is superb. What do you think Fontaine?"
While I was going to discard the work, as Florence did, I instead took Emanuel's interpretation to heart, "No, it is not great. I did not like it after the first listen. But, when you put it in that light, the work does seem more organic…fresh. H. Beethoven is taking us into his own workshop, playing with melodies until he finds the right one to mold into a fine Grecian urn. Yes, it is confusing, but eventually, we do find our sense of home. In that respect, it accomplishes what it had set out to do."
And so, I decided to learn the work. Yes it is unusual, but it was written to sound unusual. It is an intentionally broken work of art.

​- Frank Fontaine, 1811


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