Sweet And Adorable (and "loser") Ludwing

Aside from the wonder of the Ninth, I must say that neither "sweet" nor "adorable" are adjectives I would have used for Ludwi(n)g. Not that he wasn't, but they certainly aren't the first ones that come to mind when thinking about his music. As for "loser," if you are referring to deafness, then definitely yes...

Carlos wrote:

As for the "loser", if you are referring to deafness, definitely yes...

For a musician (and what a musician!) what is indeed worse than deafness?

I would never want to find myself in his condition, but it was the isolation caused by his deafness that brought him to where he reached. The works of the third period are light years ahead; he made the history of music race forward

Xenakis wrote:

I would never want to find myself in his condition, but it was the isolation caused by his deafness that brought him to where he reached. The works of the third period are light-years ahead; he made the history of music race forward.

Honestly, I believe that attributing the credit for "making the history of music race forward" to Beethoven's deafness is risky and extremely reductive.

Risky for at least two reasons. The first is that, unless one can prove that if Beethoven had been "healthy" he would have written different music (which is absolutely impossible, I mean to prove), this statement is worth zero to... no: it is worth zero. The second reason why it is risky lies in the fact that Beethoven's deafness is considered an element that prevented him from hearing what he was writing and, therefore, that if he had heard it he would have been horrified and would have worked with an eraser... frankly, this seems absurd to me, both because what he wrote are absolute masterpieces, and because one should consider that a musician like him could not have lacked an inner ear such that, at a certain point, the fact of "really" hearing became almost superfluous. The famous anecdote of Beethoven conducting the Ninth and not realizing it has ended means that in his mind he had the score completely laid out and he heard it clearly and in every part.

I was saying it is also reductive, and it is, because by attributing artistic merit to a disabling physical factor, one automatically takes it away from Beethoven himself. A bit like those who say Gould played the piano well because he took Valium...

That being said, a couple of facts (and dates) to provide a minimum of clarity.

Beethoven notices the first signs of his deafness in 1796, at age 26, and at that time he wrote the Second Piano Concerto (op. 19), the first seven Sonatas, the Trios op. 1, just to mention some of his early works.

The Heiligenstadt Testament is dated October 1802, and in that text he describes himself as torn by the torment caused by the deafness afflicting him and explains what causes his standoffish attitude. From 1802 to 1820 (the year in which he becomes definitively and totally deaf), he writes Symphonies 2 through 8, the Sonatas from the Pathétique onwards up to op. 111, Fidelio (in three versions, from 1805 to 1814), and Piano Concertos 1 (following the 2nd), 3, 4, and 5, solo, again, just to mention a few things.

What I mean to say is that, if in 1802 he was already so afflicted by deafness as to entrust his torment to the Heiligenstadt Testament, and if it were true that his astonishing and so "avant-garde" evolution is caused by deafness, he would not have written the Eighth Symphony in 1812; he would have written the Great Fugue directly (which instead he will write in 1824/26). Furthermore, Beethoven was well aware of his patrons, if it is true, as it is true, that he reserved certain choices for the Quartets that were on the limit of what was permitted (harmonically speaking) for the era, but in the meantime he was writing the Missa Solemnis op. 123 (1818/22) and the Ninth op. 125 (1824) which, while certainly being a symphony full of novelty (the chorus certainly, but also the enormous expansion of form), from a harmonic point of view is, yes, pushed, but not so much as to be misunderstood (which is what happened instead with the late quartets).

So we are talking about a composer who, far from being confused by deafness—to which he will evidently be forced to gradually adapt, facing it with extraordinary resources—knows well that he must write pieces for "his" audience that are received, understood, and appreciated, but in the meantime, dares in the quartets, which are the pieces to which he reserves (as with the sonatas) his innovative and futuristic drive.

Dear Carlos, I just wanted to downplay things a bit. In any case, it is credibly realistic that isolation leads the artist more towards listening to their own sensibility and not to commission X or the complacency of the noble in question Y.

So, everything you say is true, but knowing that at a certain point he found himself in the condition of listening only to himself and the compositions of the late period—since we are talking about dates, 1822-1823 and 1827—they consist of the last quartets op.127, 130, 131, 132, 133, 135 where the composer extends his new musical aesthetic, harmonic/formal, already extensively experimented with in the piano sonatas, and these innovations will be widely used by composers of the Romantic era.

As it happens, he becomes completely deaf in 1822... it must have had at least a minimal influence, even if only slightly, having to answer only to himself... today one would say, without promotional purpose. So much so that many composers today follow the pennies and not what they could truly give in terms of language...

This is by no means to belittle

How you prefer...