Week 30: Accessible Beethoven
One pianist's journey to perform the 32 piano sonatas of Beethoven.
Bundle family members still in pajamas into the car, drive five minutes up to the highway and through the Starbucks, then five minutes back down to the beach morning.
Our island’s abundant beaches are masterpieces of Nature. But they are famous and enjoyable because they are accessible. With so much choice, we islanders are choosy. Elders and kid strollers must not be barred by stairs; the water must be neither too cold or warm; the waves must not be dangerously high; there must be sand somewhere to lie on, cliffs to climb on, seashells to gather; there should be a long beach walk possible, a sunset at one end; one must not have to spend more than a half hour, or an hour at the outside, to get there; it must be reasonably easy to get around sharp oyster beds or rip tides; there should not be crowds; there should be ample free parking. Beaches that meet all of our accessibility conditions may be found here. And since it remains illegal to privately own a beach, they’re all available.
We feel that a beach should be free of charge. That is, unless it’s the National Park, where we see the value of preserving their high dunes and maintaining their infrastructure for visitors. We get the early-bird park pass discount for fifty bucks, hang it on the car mirror, and whiz by the entry booths all summer. Easy and accessible.
At one of my Beethoven house concerts, I was told the next day, an individual who was hard of hearing had had to leave at intermission, because the sounds were painful and distorted to them. They had really wanted to be there, and had been game to try.
I have been worrying about it ever since. Such inaccessibility is just untenable to me. A hard-of-hearing person having to struggle to access Beethoven, Beethoven, who was at first hard-of-hearing, then clinically deaf.
A few weeks after the concert, I was walking through a healthcare trade fair downtown when I spotted a booth labelled Canadian Hard of Hearing Association. Making a beeline over to it, I began asking questions of two helpful ladies, who told me that there is now a wondrous technology with which venues can be retrofitted. It’s called a “hearing loop”. For the cost of several thousand dollars, depending on the venue, wires can be installed and a sign with the “hearing loop” symbol placed at the entrance. A hard-of-hearing person, upon seeing the sign, can tune their hearing aid wirelessly to the system, without having to ask or set up special permission, and enjoy high fidelity sound.
Only two venues on the island, both rural churches, have a hearing loop installed.
We have three more years until the 200th anniversary of Beethoven’s death in 2027. Before his passing, Beethoven expressed the wish that humanity would study his case and come up with better understanding about his disability. Three more years seems to me a reasonable amount of time, for all venues wishing to present Beethoven anniversary concerts, to make them accessible with hearing loops. Fundraising will be necessary. This is now on my agenda.
I was recently asked by a concert presenter what was accessible about Beethoven for youth. The instant image in my mind was of children joyfully “conducting” to a big Beethoven symphony. Piano teachers know that Beethoven is possibly the best-loved composer of any we teach. The tune of “Ode to Joy” is ubiquitous in beginner music books. Almost anyone taking up the piano wants to play “Für Elise”. I remember in my 20s as a private teacher, being requested to teach “Für Elise”to a sweet little Brazilian boy, a middle-aged librarian, a 14-year-old girl, and an aristocratic senior Italian gentleman – all in the same month. Students adore the “Moonlight” sonata; they aspire to the “Pathétique” sonata. As for concert audiences, statistically the most often requested and programmed piano concerto in North America is Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto No 5.
I have asked a young adult who is not a musician what the word “accessible” meant for them in relation to Beethoven. They mentioned loving his “Ode to Joy” tune as a kid. “Why was that such a good tune for you?” I asked.
A musician might have answered that the tune is in a major key; it rises in pitch; it is diatonic; it lies in easy vocal range; it has a march-like rhythmic beat; it employs effective repetition, but also throws in a surprise low note followed by a sudden syncopation.
The young adult replied, “it made me happy.”
“So, in general, what makes an art form accessible to you?” I asked.
They considered, then said, “When it tells a story”.
In his new – April 2024 – philosophy text, The Crisis of Narration, German-Korean philosopher Byung-Chul Han writes of our civilization’s disturbing turn away from narrative forms and story-telling, towards cumulative data collection and what he calls “story-selling”. He points to “Stories” on Facebook or Instagram, which don’t have real narratives but function more as advertisements.
Who hasn’t been faced with all the smartphone pics we’ve taken, and thought, how on earth will I make sense of this? What will I save? What we need are narratives about them, which select key moments from one’s personal point-of-view to weave a story with a meaningful through-line. Such a narrative makes our data accessible to us. It creates what we think of as history. Beethoven’s life work was to create such narratives. While living a life that itself was a deeply human story, he did so for the express purpose of benefiting future humans. Despite the thorny, inaccessible passages in some of his music, surely his legacy is still supremely accessible, as long as we still value a good story.
Heather I've been enjoying your writing and share your love for Beethoven as you work through the piano sonatas. As a musician who spends so much time on learning new music, it is such a pleasure to return to the music of Beethoven and savour the complexities and delights of his voice. You writing is so beautiful and personal and thoughtful.