MEMETERIA by Thomas May

Music & the Arts

The Ninth at 200

The Berlin Celebration Concert 1989 – Leonard Bernstein – Beethoven Symphony No 9

Exactly 200 years ago today, on 7 May 1824 at 7pm Vienna time, Beethoven presented a “Grand Musical Academy” at the Theater am Kärntnertor. On the program: the Overture to The Consecration of the House; selections from the recently premiered (in St. Petersburg) Missa Solemnis (Kyrie, Credo, and Agnus Dei); and “a grand symphony with solo and choral voices entering in the finale, on Schiller’s ‘Ode to Joy'” — as the poster described the Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125.

From The Ninth: Beethoven and the World in 1824 by the always insightful cultural historian Harvey Sachs:

It was in the works of his last years that Beethoven delved ever more deeply into his subconscious while affirming ever more strenuously the artist’s obligation to use self-revelation as a means toward the achievement of worldwide human harmony. I call this process the universalizing of the intimate. His Missa Solemnis, Ninth Symphony, last three piano sonatas, “Diabelli” Variations for piano, and last five string quartets are above all a search for transcendence. In them, he carried the process of universalizing the intimate as far as and probably farther than any other musician had or has ever done; at the very least — as Maynard Solomon, a lifelong student of the composer’s life and works, has written — in these works Beethoven “forever enlarged the sphere of human experience available to the creative imagination.”

“The question of whether or not we ought to read artists’ lives into their works ceases to matter in Beethoven’s last years. His late works were his life. …”

“In many ways, Beethoven was — is – much more modern than we are. “We live ‘as if,’” says the protagonist of Claire Messud’s novel, The Last Life, “as if we knew why, as if it made sense, as if in living this way we could banish the question and the ‘as if’ness itself, the way we speak and act as if our words could be comprehended […].” Beethoven, in his terrifying isolation and his terrible pride and his unsurpassed capacity to transform experience into organized sound-complexities, went beyond that stage. In the last quartets, and certainly in the Ninth Symphony, he obliterated the ‘as if’ness of comprehension, and then went on to obliterate obliteration — to dance on obliteration’s ashes.”

Filed under: Beethoven, cultural criticism, cultural history

Food, Food, Glorious Food

food

The latest edition of YaleNews contains an intriguing interview by Amy Athey McDonald [aptonym!] with Paul Freedman, chair of Yale’s Program in the History of Science and Medicine and the teacher of a multidisciplinary course titled “The History of Food.”

Among the insights gleaned are how the history of the celebrity chef, how tastes in food — e.g., the late-Medieval hunger for spices — actually steered certain historical events, and how French innovations shaped the evolution of modern European food.

On the first restaurants:

The first restaurants arose in Paris before the French Revolution, around 1760 and 1770. The word comes from “restoration,” and they were places to get nourishment for hypercondriacal or “delicate” people. As these places evolved, they served other expensive and fashionable health foods for the middle and upper classes.

On the history of food critics in America:

Restaurant reviews in the United States came much later [than the early 19th century], and in a way, not until Craig Claiborne, who was food editor and restaurant critic for “The New York Times” for many years. Up until then, reviews were really puff pieces that were essentially advertising.

Freedman on his speciality, food in the Middle Ages:

The nature of banqueting was to create excess. The aristocracy had 50- or 100-course meals with a lot of color and pageantry. One course might be a chicken with a banner riding on the back of a glazed orange suckling pig. The point of being wealthy was to show off what no one else had, but in that era there was less food waste than now. Somebody would eat it all, like the kitchen staff, other servants, their families, and eventually the poor. They didn’t have our laws against giving away cooked food.

Peasants probably had a more balanced diet than the nobles, eating more vegetables and grains. It’s wrong to think peasants were on the brink of starvation all of the time. There was also a very prosperous commercial class that imitated the upper class in terms of food.

Filed under: cultural history

Archive

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.