It's Not About Moonlight
If contrast were his intent, then Beethoven is at his most successful-the three movements of the "Moonlight" sonata could hardly differ more. But while they hold little in common character-wise, they maintain a poetic coherence though the drama their contrast creates. A dialogue emerges between them that examines something deeper than just the forms of a sonata or the tonal varieties of C# minor. What is expressed evokes the sense of something human, a sense of suffering, or toil, perhaps, against some nebulous darkness.
The slow first movement establishes this intense feeling of pathos. The grim persistence of the bass, three notes repeated again and again, gives an impression of emptiness and of stasis. It seems inescapable, heavy, almost mournful. It weighs down, and in its constancy it calls attention to the silence in the melody. Arising from it though, a single, tentative voice asserts its presence, as if asking a question-the silence that follows though only reinforces the sense of emptiness. The voice seems to speak of loneliness and confinement, of bleakness and sorrow, but at times a soft, hopeful glimmer surfaces, as if longing for something more, or better, or different. As the movement closes, however, that hope seems to surrender, overwhelmed and replaced with a sense of finality.
The second movement, by contrast, is far more contented. It feels more open and free, al-most flighty, and possesses a kind of sing-song quality. Also, unlike the first, the second movement retains a sense of mobility-with something that could be described as an ambling gait-and seems to have a clear idea of purpose or direction (though not necessarily a destination). Yet next to the first movement, its levity seems somehow false or out of place. When immediately preceded by such solemn pathos, the peacefulness and contentment of the second movement seem as if they could only be pretend, suggesting perhaps that happiness is only a façade for human suffering.
The third and final movement of the sonata presents yet another dramatic shift in character. It explodes from the gate, eager and driven. Next to the second movement, the third acts almost as a shock back to reality, a jolt of energy into the calm-responding, it seems, to the quiet plea of the first. In the third, there exists a clear destination-liberation from suffering, happiness, freedom, call it what you will-and as a result, the movement can be understood as a struggle to reach that destination. Thus, a dialogue arises-a conflict between effort and resistance that drives the motion of the piece.
From the very opening of the third movement's Exposition, the listener gets the sense that the music is desperately climbing towards some uncertain goal. The fast, vibrating bass lends it a feeling of urgency, a frantic energy that catapults the melody upwards by skip a considerable dis-tance (three full octaves). While a fluid motion, it is not, however, a perfectly smooth ascent-at regular intervals the pitch drops about half the distance it has climbed, then continues onward, sug-gesting a gradual slope or a steady upward push against a resistant force. It reaches its peak with two "plunks" of the tonic, as if it has encountered a ceiling of sorts. From there it seems to reset, climbing once again in the same manner as before, though this time in the dominant. Once again, though, it "plunks" and resets, but as it begins its ascent for the third time, it has shifted to the major tonic and therefore peaks higher than it has before (from C# to C# now instead of G# to G#). The shift from minor to major seems to suggest a degree of progress, and indeed, the following measures respond, climbing the same distance, still by skip, but in half the number of measures. Twice more the melody peaks at C#, but as it encounters the invisible ceiling the second time, the two "plunks" resolve down a step to a third, a momentary halt in upward progress.
The second phrase replies with a flurry of activity. First, it rises a short distance (compared to the first phrase, at least) by step (and skip as it approaches its high point) over the span of a measure and a half. The vibration in the bass seems to have shifted to the melody, where it acts as a kind of physical ceiling-a repeated G# that carries through until the end of the phrase. This gradual rise retains the frantic energy of the first phrase, yet seems to lose its sense of direction. It is imme-diately followed by the first descent of the movement, dropping back down an equal distance by step, returning the melody to its starting point from the beginning of the phrase-meaning it ulti-mately travels nowhere. This shape then repeats, resulting in a wobbly wavering motion. The fol-lowing section of the phrase seems to intensify this, once again an up-down, up-down contour, but over a much narrower range-a single step-which emphasizes a feeling of disorientation, as if the music is uncertain where to go in the face of an obstruction or obstacle. The impulse and energy to continue upward remains, but with nowhere to go, it seems to pause for breath, dropping at the end of the phrase to a low G# on the dominant, and resets.
A clear response to the confusion of the second phrase, the theme from the first phrase re-turns in the third, back on the tonic, determined and unrelenting. Yet now it manages to climb even higher than in the first phrase, as if through familiarity, the motion has become less difficult. Twice it reaches an invisible ceiling and resets, but on its third ascent, it fails to reach its peak-instead of the expected "plunks" the melody falters, tumbling unexpectedly downward, by skip and step, back to where it began its climb. This acts as a kind of set back-perhaps a loss of confidence or onset of doubt or weakness after seven failed attempts to break through some invisible barrier.
As a result, the fourth phrase seems halting, almost tentative-the rapid, constant motion of the preceding phrases has been replaced with a far more syncopated, jerky rhythm. Oddly too, it begins by going downward (a short distance by skip). It seems almost as if a force of resistance has entered the picture, pushing downward, as now the melody fights to rise. The fluid motion of the previous phrases has become rough, now, in the fourth phrase, stepping down, lunging up and drop-ping back, then skipping up again, yet ultimately only moving up a short distance-a single step per measure. Furthermore, the sense of vibration in the bass has intensified. Going up has become a struggle.
The fifth phrase expands upon this, with the upward force seeming to gain confidence, as if recovering from a momentary weakness. It leaps far upward at the beginning of the phrase, then dances back downwards a short distance by skip before settling into the same rhythmic pattern of the fourth-still rising gradually stepwise between measures-only now, with the melody doubled in the treble, it seems stronger, more forceful, perhaps more purpose driven. Halfway through the phrase, however, a shift occurs, as if the resistance has suddenly intensified. The frenetic energy and disjointed rhythms of the preceding phrases are now focused into a single effort to move one chord up one step (measure 29), but while successful at first, each successive attempt seems weaker, with each measure a single step lower than the one preceding it. The trills in measures 30 and 32 seem even to suggest unsound footing, or a skid, as the music labors to move upward. The phrase then ends on an unstable minor v (G# minor) in the first inversion, emphasizing a sense of being on the verge of falling.
Then, as the Exposition enters the sixth phrase, the upward impulse forces its way unexpec-tedly up a step to a more secure A major chord (deceptive cadence). From here, it once again tries to climb, this time in a fast run by step that doesn't get far before for it falls back down by skip to where it started. It then rises and falls again several times in a wave-like motion, before hovering briefly at its highest point, falling again by step (though not as far), hovering once more, then finally settling down to E major. The rise feels looser and lighter, still as if pushing against something, but as if the tension from earlier has relaxed-indeed, the bass has calmed, now lacking the urgency it previously carried.
The seventh phrase acts similarly to the sixth-after a large drop down to A major (the same chord at the beginning of six), which feels almost like a rejection of the previous statement, the me-lody tries to rise again, mirroring the same wavelike motion of the previous phrase (another up-down, up-down struggle), though in a lower register and lasting for longer. In measure 40 though, it flies upward by step (two full octaves), and seems, unlike the sixth phrase, to break through to its destination. Yet just as it does so, the bass intensifies again, the urgency returning, and the melody falls-first by a short leap, it recovers up a short skip, then by a plunge to a V7/V (D#dom7), which then resolves with a key change to the tonic g# minor.
With this key change at the beginning of the eighth phrase, the conflict begins again in earn-est. The bass and the melody seem to act as opposing forces-in each measure they begin stationary, but as one moves stepwise up a short distance, the other moves down, maintaining a kind of equilibrium. From measure to measure the balance shifts, one measure is higher, the next is lower, neither the upward impulse nor the downward force gaining any ground. The last two measures of eight, follow a similar motion, but with an abbreviated rhythm that suggests a kind of ellipsis, an etcetera, an "and so on."
The ninth phrase then seems a continuation of the eighth but in a higher register. The rhythm and motion remain largely the same, but where the second an fourth measures of the phrase leap higher than the measures preceding them, the bass and melody are no longer in opposition, empha-sizing, perhaps, that the downward force has taken the upper hand. This seems reflected as well in the return of the "etcetera" portion from eight, only now there is a clear downward motion, narrow in range, from measure to measure.
The transition from the ninth phrase into the tenth makes it seem almost as if the conflict has gotten sidetracked. While the sense of urgency remains present in the bass, the melody is far more delicate, feeling reflective or pensive. It moves down a short distance by skip and step, then softly leaps upwards and rests for a moment. This pattern repeats again in a slightly higher register, but seems to flutter or twinkle at the end, as if conveying an impression of hope or longing for some-thing distant. The end of the tenth phrase-an intensified vibration moving down a step between measures-can thus be understood as a gathering of energy, a preparation to reenter the fray (which it does at the Exposition repeats) in order to achieve this destination.
After the repeat, this build up flows straight into the first phrase of the Development, which is nearly identical to the first phrase of the Exposition, except now on the major tonic (of C#). It ris-es, "plunks", and resets, but whereas in the Exposition, it peaked in major, the final climbs of the Development phrase rise first to minor (the subdominant), then, with seemingly concerted effort, to a dissonant suspension that resolves back to the same subdominant. This shift has a destabilizing effect-the expected resolution to major heard in the Exposition fails to happen, almost as if the rising force has slowly been worn down or weakened.
This seems even more likely when the theme fails to return a second time, as in the Exposi-tion, instead falling somewhat unceremoniously into a return of the Exposition's halting fourth phrase, now in a lower register. Already the melody struggles to rise, almost as if the constant ex-pense of energy is taking its toll. This idea of weakness continues as the Development moves into its third phrase-the same pattern continues, still fighting to ascend, but it has dropped into the bass, trapped, it seems, underneath the weight of the bass rhythm, which has switched places with the melody. In measure 78, the rhythmic pattern of the phrase is disrupted, seeming to falter or stumble. It sticks for a moment like a skipping record (failing to rise the consistent one step), then resets, dropping even lower than before. This time, while the rhythm holds its pattern, the steady measure to measure ascent falters, first going up by a step, then dropping back a short distance by skip. A rhythm similar to the Exposition's fifth phrase follows, dropping reluctantly a relatively short dis-tance and holding, as if trying to halt the descent. The rhythm begins again, trying to recover ground-moving up a step-but falters once more, dropping even farther by skip (the same range as the previous descent). All of this seems to suggest a gradual weakening of the upward impulse.
As the Development enters its fourth and final phrase, the downward force has clearly taken the upper hand. While the melody does shift back to the upper voice, it seems driven downward, though not smoothly. It descends slowly a moderately short distance (by step), as if fighting to stay up. Some ground is regained, however, but with a seeming great effort-slowly stepwise over a short distance. This motion repeats once more, but stronger in both directions, single notes replaced by full chords. The melody tries another two times to recover in the same manner as before, gaining a little strength with each effort, but each attempt no more successful than the previous. Then, at the very end of the Development, it descends once again, slowly and quietly by step, but with a heavy sense of finality (V7/V to V) and with none of the energy of the earlier struggle.
The Coda, then, acts as a kind of last ditch effort, a final push to reach its destination. The first phrase witnesses once more the return of the movement's opening theme, rising first to a peak at the subdominant-plunking and resetting-then again to the tonic. After it plunks and resets this time however, the ascent becomes far more difficult, as if every ounce of effort were thrown into an upward push. Even the frantic energy of the bass has been transformed to a climbing motion. Both the bass and the melody force their way up by a combination of skip and step, ultimately over a large distance, but in a series of shorter, labored steps. Where the climb is expected to plunk and reset, however, it doesn't-instead it settles on a V7/vii, leaving the upward motion feeling incom-plete. It tries again, as if to complete the motion, but while spanning a similar range, it gets no high-er, actually ending up two steps lower, the V7/vii resolving to a VII7. Despite its redoubled effort, the impulse to rise continues to encounter fierce resistance.
In the second phrase of the Coda, the third phrase of the Development reappears, a tenta-tive, halting ascent in the bass, stuck once again, it seems, beneath the weight of the bass rhythm, now in the treble. Yet unlike in the Development, the melody continues to rise at its constant, gradual rate, even breaking back into the upper voice (the bass rhythm returning to the bass). In the last two measures of the phrase, the end of the Development's third phrase makes a repeat appearance, though inverted-climbing jerkily, but with increasing intensity, struggling against pressure.
The movement and the conflict reach their respective climaxes in the third phrase of the Co-da. It first spirals rapidly downwards, far and by skip, and then forces its way back up, again far and by skip, seeming to lunge for its highest point. This long, arching wave repeats twice more, though each time the downward motion becomes less fluid, as if the upward impulse is putting up increasing resistance of its own. The melody drops a third a third time and climbs once more, but now it seems to fly upwards, spanning a massive range in stepwise motion, and at its peak, a little trill, providing a sense of accomplishment, as if the goal has been achieved, the destination reached. Yet this success is short-lived-the melody sinks slowly by step and by skip back to where it began, then even farther, ending with two incomplete and seemingly hollow, hopeless chords, as if realizing that the struggle is never-ending, the downward force unrelenting.
In response, the final phrase of the piece returns to the final phrase of the exposition, tenta-tive at first, then more confident, as if aware of what's coming but prepared to fight. Whereas the "twinkles" in the exposition seemed almost hopeful though, here in the Coda, as the bass intensifies, they seem forceful and determined, as unrelenting as the force opposite them. The piece then con-cludes with what seems like a closing statement, rising far by skip, then collapsing downwards even farther (still by skip) into a strong, also downwards, final cadence. This seems, in a sense, to pa-raphrase this idea of the struggle-no matter how hard melody tries to ascend, the fall is always in-evitable, and the conflict, therefore, exists perpetually.
2,961 words / 8 pages
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