Read on to discover how former journalist, war correspondent, news anchor – and now Classic FM host – John Suchet has found comfort and strength in the music of Beethoven…
At pivotal moments in my life, I have always found solace and strength in music – specifically, in the music of Beethoven. When I was sent to report from conflict zones, most memorably during the Lebanese civil war, it was Beethoven who saw me through the most harrowing experiences.
As an ITN reporter, there were times when the world seemed chaotic, unpredictable, and even cruel. But Beethoven’s compositions remained a constant. His music has been with me in my darkest hours, and in moments of celebration, offering a window into resilience, defiance and triumph.
Beethoven himself was no stranger to struggle, of course. Deafness plagued him, and personal turmoil haunted him. He channelled much of it into music that continues to transcend time and circumstance. Over the years, I’ve come to know his works as if they were old friends – companions that have guided me through the best and worst of times.
I would like to share some of the pieces that have not only defined Beethoven’s journey but have also profoundly shaped my own. Each composition holds a special place in my heart and speaks to moments of both anguish and joy. These are the works that have accompanied me through life’s ebbs and flows, and in sharing them, I hope they will resonate with you too.
John Suchet on… Symphony No. 3, ‘Eroica’
Quite simply the soundtrack to my life. The ‘Eroica’ Symphony is like a novel. Even when you know every note, every twist and turn, Beethoven still takes you by surprise again and again. It was the ‘Eroica’ I blew into my ears on a midnight ferry to Beirut to cover the Lebanese civil war as an ITN reporter. The ‘Eroica’ inspires and uplifts, filling you with confidence and belief in yourself.
It may be unfashionable, but to me there is no one to beat Toscanini. Those opening chords are like whiplashes. He drives Beethoven on, showing you the character of the man. This symphony has accompanied me at the best of times, and the worst.
Piano Sonata No. 31, Op. 110
The middle of the final set of three piano sonatas, in which Beethoven tells us of his deafness. The ‘klagender gesang’ (doleful song) of the slow movement — and his triumph over it, the life-affirming inverted double fugue of the final movement.
When I visited his birth house 30 years ago, I bought a CD of Op.110 performed by the Austrian pianist Jörg Demus on the Graf piano which was in Beethoven’s apartment when he died. After that recording was made in 1967, the keyboard was covered with perspex. Handing me the CD, the saleswoman said, ‘This was the last time Beethoven’s voice was heard.’
John Suchet on… Diabelli Variations
The music publisher Anton Diabelli wrote a little waltz for piano and invited 50 prominent composers to write a single variation on it. Beethoven was one of them. He was insulted and refused… then he changed his mind and worked on it. Then he changed his mind again and discarded it. Then, for a third time, he changed his mind and wrote not one, but 33 variations. It is one of his very finest piano works.
The first pianist I listened to for the Diabelli and the complete set of piano sonatas was the Hungarian Jenö Jandó. Recorded in Budapest in the late ’80s, it sounds like a single microphone in a bare studio. Far more authentic sounding than today’s over-digitised ultra-clean recordings.
Violin Sonata No. 9, ‘Kreutzer’
The mightiest, most complex of Beethoven’s 10 violin sonatas. At the first performance, with violinist George Bridgetower reading at sight over Beethoven’s shoulder, he improvised the huge run on the piano that Beethoven had written just for himself. Beethoven looked up in astonishment, leapt up and hugged Bridgetower, telling him to repeat it.
Finding an obscure description of this in the library of the Royal Academy of Music led to 25 years as the Academy’s Orator, reading citations for world-class musicians receiving honorary degrees. In so doing I have met some of the greatest musical names of our times, from Pierre Boulez to Simon Rattle. I am very grateful to Mr Bridgetower.
John Suchet on… Three Equali for Four Trombones
I am a trombonist, and not a bad trad jazz trombonist. My musical hero, before Beethoven, was Chris Barber. To my astonishment I discovered that Beethoven loved the trombone as well. He was the first to include trombones in a symphony (the 5th). At the last minute he added trombones to his oratorio Christus am Ölberge.
In 1812, in Linz having furious rows with his brother over his totally unsuitable choice of bride, he wrote three Trombone Equali, to be performed at funerals. One of them, arranged for male voices, was performed at his own funeral. Trombonists have many reasons to be grateful to Beethoven.
Fidelio
Fidelio was Beethoven’s only opera, and what a struggle it was. Three versions, four overtures. No wonder he never wrote another. It works on two levels: the triumph of freedom over oppression, and the unquenchable love of a wife for her husband.
The 1975 studio recording of Otto Klemperer conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus with Jon Vickers and Christa Ludwig, for sheer emotion has never been equalled. When Florestan and Leonore launch into the triumphant love duet ‘O namenlose Freude’ I reach for the Kleenex every time.
John Suchet on… Egmont Overture
Beethoven wrote incidental music to Goethe’s great play about the Flemish hero Count Egmont who led the revolt against the occupying Spanish. In the overture you hear the whole story — Egmont’s arrest, his trial — brass are prosecution and judges, strings the pleading family — sentence is passed and the axe falls. Then a symphony of triumph, because ultimately the Dutch will drive the Spanish from their land.
New research, as a result of the sequencing of Beethoven’s genome, suggests he may not have had Flemish ancestry at all. But he did not know that.
Missa solemnis
Beethoven was deeply spiritual in his later years but not, I believe, a religious man. There is no anecdotal evidence of him attending church to worship, and his religious compositions are small in number — a single oratorio and two settings of the mass.
The second of these, which came late in life, was not inspired by any deep belief, but in celebration of Archduke Rudolf’s elevation to cardinal. His intention was to premiere it, not in a church, but at the same concert in the Kärntnertor theatre as his Ninth Symphony. The censor banned the concert, refusing to allow a religious work to be performed in a commercial theatre. Beethoven persisted. A compromise was reached — three of the five movements only could be performed. It is his single greatest choral work.
John Suchet’s new book, ‘In Search of Beethoven‘, is published on 17 October 2024 by Elliott & Thompson.