Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Diabelli Variations, Op. 120
Around 1819, the music-publisher and composer Anton
Diabelli invited several composers to contribute one
variation to a collection based on his own waltz theme.
Beethoven initially refused. Instead, he began sketching
his own collection of variations based on Diabelli’s
waltz. Not completed until 1823, the Thirty-Three
Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120, would
become Beethoven’s last large-scale composition for
solo piano.
This late work poses numerous interpretive
possibilities. Several scholars have attempted to
describe the Diabelli Variations in terms of a
transcendental journey, a testament to Beethoven’s
spirituality, and how this manifests itself in his late
compositional style. The notion of retrospection (and
along with that, introspection) is one key to unlocking
the magic behind this piece. The Variations, indeed,
assume a monumental narrative structure. Much as
Dante provided a guide through his Divine Comedy, so
does Beethoven, but Beethoven’s guide(s) turns out not
to be the theme, but rather, the musical genres and styles
both from the past and the contemporaneous. One can
unravel this work by tracing a carefully planned
narrative of retrospection, through the use of parody and
humour, imitation, and transformation of musical styles.
Expressively, this retrospective approach contributes to
the deeper meaning behind the work. Further, the work
can be viewed in three large sections, each one more
outright in its borrowing of musical styles — first, an
exploration of the theme, then integration, and finally,
reconciliation. The result of referencing and exploring
the musical past is a composition unparalleled in its
inventiveness and creativity.
From the outset, Diabelli’s theme poses an
immediate compositional problem: how does one
proceed from the relatively simple harmonic scheme
and repetitive textures? Suffice it to say Beethoven’s
solution is one of the most remarkable in musical
history. In order to make a secure emotional transition
between the theme and the ensuing variations,
Beethoven works in narrative fashion, moving the music
gradually away from the theme, and by the end of the
work, transforming it into other-worldly magnificence.
To do this, Beethoven leaves the humourous theme
at once and begins his music with a parodying March
marked Maestoso. The time signature has changed
abruptly from 3/4 to 4/4 and clearly exhibits the
composer’s disdain for the “common” generator of his
proceeding creations. Similarly, the second variation
parodies the first while restoring the triple metre. The
exploration of the theme (the goal of the first large
section) begins, like many sets of technical variations,
with the appearance of rhythmic diminutions. The
difference here is that instead of this taking place within
a few variations, the process continues methodically
over the first ten. It culminates in two powerful trills in
the left hand (Variation X). With the trill (the ultimate
diminution), the first part of the journey is complete —
exploration gives rise to integration. Interestingly, while
the first ten variations explore the theme, the
possibilities are far from exhausted. In fact the musical
aspects explored earlier become new material for
subsequent variations, variations upon variations.
The following section gradually pulls away from
the obviousness of the theme, while at the same time
integrating methodical references to musical history.
The eleventh and twelfth variations are lyrical, even
pastoral, in nature. One of the most interesting variation
techniques Beethoven employs is contrast. Variation
XIII completely reverses the peaceful effects of
Variations XI and XII. Sonorous chords, disrupted by
energetic silence, pull the music into a new realm. This
variation reduces the opening waltz to a smattering of
sound forcing its way through silence.
In contrast, Variation XIV is a French Overture
topic. Expressively, this is a generic recall of ancient
music. As a rule, variations normally look back to their
own theme, but here Beethoven interrupts a series of
connected variations with the high style. Further, this
variation is couched between the silence of Variation
XIII and the Presto of Variation XV. Here Beethoven
shifts the metre to duple, as if to throw the listener off
balance (recalling the metric shift of the first variation).
One of the shortest variations in the entire work, this
interlude acts as yet another parody.
The next variations, XVI and XVII, are linked, and
also look to other musical styles. These two variations
function as etudes, a relatively new genre. The technical
problem is divided between the hands (first left hand,
then right). Variation XVIII can be viewed as an
emotional retrenching; compared to the preceding
etudes, it represents a moment of respite. The parallel
octaves between the hands are a new texture, and
resemble Baroque fortspinnung in its treatment.
Variation XIX also recalls a Baroque idiom, the canon.
Its character is playful and outright. By contrast,
Variation XX exists in a completely new world. As the
end of the second section, it is monumental in its
brevity, its texture, and its high degree of dissonance.
The simplistic recall of the descending fourth motive,
however, is disturbingly mocking. The harmonic
complexity amidst the low register creates a seriousness
that foreshadows later variations. Integration is
complete. But Beethoven has as of yet provided no
answers. Rather, he settles (in Variation XX) into a
moment of repose before proceeding. Besides its
Baroque mood, the twentieth variation distinctly recalls
Op. 111. The final stage of the work, spiritual
reconciliation and transcendence, is the process
whereby Beethoven reconciles the musical past with the
innocence of the theme. In doing so, he subjects the
music to progressive and forward-looking processes.
The result is spiritual transcendence, literally, the past
links with the future, and the spiritual links with the
commonplace.
The third section begins in a world totally separate
from the twentieth variation. Variation XXI stridently
mocks Variation XX. The humour of the trill is bounced
around various registers in a duple metre. This humour
is short-lived, however. A slower episode is
interpolated, only to be brazenly interrupted by the
earlier material. Essentially, this variation longs for
itself.
Variation XXII is the most obvious parody.
Beethoven borrows the opening of “Notte e giorno
faticar” from Leporello’s aria in Mozart’s Don
Giovanni. It is a testament to Beethoven’s genius that he
can incorporate this music into variation form. As a
parody variation, this is the only one completely in
unison. Its humorous level of discourse illustrates
further mockery, while at the same time it nostalgically
recalls the descending fourth of the opening of the
theme. The occasional use of operatic or symphonic
style music will be taken over by choral-like textures by
the end of the piece, a style which consumed the
composer near the end of his life.
Variation XXIII presents itself as another etude. It
compresses the original 32 measures into sixteen.
Emotionally, it provides a transition between the
humorous world of the Mozart parody and the following
Fughetta, Variation XXIV, which represents a return to
a high, learned level, reminiscent of an a cappella choir.
In doing so, this variation signals a more ominous
emotional underpinning to the work, one that will
become more obvious in the ensuing variations.
Variation XXV restores the feeling of the waltz.
The circular left-hand sixteenths (semiquavers)
ingratiate the music with elegance and dignity. Literally,
Variations XXIV and XXV reclaim the high
compositional styles of the Baroque and Classic periods
(fugue and minuet) as a means of redefining the
clumsiness of the theme.
Variations XXVI to XXVIII function as a unit. The
texture thickens between the three, and so does the
distancing from the original theme. It is here that
Beethoven leaves the world of the theme and physically
(aurally) captures a spiritual one. During these three
variations, Beethoven challenges the obsessive,
repetitive nature of the theme until it nearly implodes.
This makes way for the climb into an intense, moving
close. By Variation XXIX, the mode is minor, the mood
is dramatic and the theme is arioso-like. It is the
beginning of a trilogy of minor variations and the
sobbing motive indicates the change in expressive
mode. Variation XXX continues the ascent toward
apotheosis. Set in a “learned” texture, this music is an
imitative, SATB interlude. Variation XXXI is the final
minor variation. It is marked Largo and uses both an
aria and a sicilienne topic simultaneously. The Largo is
the deepest emotional cavern of the work. It stands
completely polarised emotionally from the beginning of
the work. Now the music displays solemnity,
introspection, and a longing for comfort, at once
desperate and serene. Ultimately, this attempt to
reconcile musical pasts and present drives the music
into a spiritual realm. Beethoven does this by looking
back to earlier dance forms as well as forward to the belcanto
grace of Chopin’s coloratura writing.
Beethoven has overcome the hopelessness of the
three previous variations in the Fugue. Again he resorts
to the musical complexity of the Baroque to explore
musical solutions. The power of this music is partly
contained in the fact that the fugal subject contains
every element of Diabelli’s original and common theme.
A cadenza-like passage bridges the fugue and the final
variation: Tempo di Menuetto moderato. Here
Beethoven adopts a galant, lighter mood to counteract
the depth of the fugue. Eventually the Minuet disappears
into the higher registers of the instrument. This texture
is a direct recasting of the ending of Beethoven’s own
Sonata, Op. 111. The ethereal sounds represent the
world of spiritual transcendence—one accomplished by
a nostalgic return to Beethoven’s own music.
The penultimate pianissimo chord is triumphantly
contrasted with the forte that ends this sublime piece.
Indeed the Sonata, Op. 111, does not end as heroically.
Perhaps this is indicative of Beethoven’s final say at the
piano. It is this author’s contention that Beethoven
chooses this ending to recall more strictly Diabelli’s
theme. In this final sound of the piece Beethoven grasps
Diabelli’s theme and literally shakes every ounce of
possibility out of it, where most of us would have seen
nothing. The final chord balances out the theme; it
originally opened in a different register and with a piano
dynamic. Beethoven offsets this tentative, naive quality,
with a higher register and a forte dynamic. At once the
work ends, with a reconciliation between commonplace
and transcendental, and between the past and what will
become the musical future. It represents creativity and
genius of the highest order. The Diabelli Variations are,
at least on some level, a compendium of musical
history, a cyclic, self-referencing, compositional
homage to Beethoven’s musical predecessors and
successors, which is captivatingly poignant. Spirituality
takes many forms in this piece, from the innocence of
the beginning to the steadfastly triumphant, to the
inherently reflective and psychological, and to the
violent and intensely philosophical. It is a rewarding yet
difficult journey to experience this work, both for
performer and listener, not unlike the life journey itself.
Lia M. Jensen
University of Nebraska-Lincoln