I’m very honored that you took the time to listen to the Beethoven. I mean to say, it is an honor and frankly a joy for someone to think, “I’m going to take a chance and see what the fuss is about.”
By the way, the first performance was a flop (too little rehearsal, the first violinist broke a string, and Beethoven’s devoted, cultivated circle of cognoscenti couldn’t really make head or tail of it).
So they shrugged it off and jumped back onto Facebook, right? Nah.
Four new players were conscripted and about a week later the piece was performed again. It was performed twice, in its entirety, at the request of his audience, with a break in between; with the growing familiarity that came with repeated listening, his audience began to grasp what he’d done.
I have fond memories of childhood holidays driving through Vermont. This is over fifty years ago. We’d head up from Whitby, along the 401 through Gananoque and the Thousand Islands, then eventually cross the border around Lake Champlain. Was there, I believe, a ferry? I remember a morning of July sun refracted through the mist rising from the Green Mountains. I had never seen mountains before, or understood “sublime.”
The world is so beautiful. And priceless.
Best regards,
David Roddis.
