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"The Legend of The Moonlight Sonata" by Varnum Tefft

The Beethoven Sonata, that has come to be known as the "Moonlight," was written towards the latter part of Beethoven's life, after his powers had reached their height, and together with the "Pathetique," and one or two others, marks the highest point in the piano literature of the classic school. There is an old story told in the connection with the writing of this Sonata. Although it has been discredited by many, it has crept into the tradition of the Sonata, and makes very interesting reading.

It is related that late one evening, Beethoven and a friend were walking through the streets of Bonn, and, in passing through one of the poorer quarters, were surprised to hear music, well played, coming from one of the houses. Beethoven, with his usual impulsiveness, crossed the street, pushed open the door, and entered unannounced. The room was poor, and lit by one feeble candle. A young man was working at a cobbler's bench in a corner. A young lady, still almost a child, was seated at an old square piano. Both sprang up in amazement at the intrusion, but their surprise was no greater than Beethoven's, and his friend's, upon discovering that the girl was blind. Beethoven, somewhat confused, hastened to apologize, and explained that he had been so struck with the quality of the young woman's playing, that he had hastened to find out who was playing at that time of night and at this quarter of the city. He then asked the girl where she had learned to play, and she informed him that they had at one time lived next door to a lady who studied music, and who spent a great deal of time practicing the works of the great Master, Beethoven. She had learned to play many of the Master's pieces just from hearing the lady practice. The brother then interfered to inquire who they were, that they should notice his poor sister's playing. Listen! said Beethoven, and going to the piano he played the opening bars of his Sonata in F. Tears rushed to the girl's eyes as she recognized the music, and then in a trembling voice, asked him if he could be the great Master himself. "Yes," he said. "I will play for you." After a few moments, whilst playing one of his older compositions, the candle flickered, and went out. The interruption seemed to break the train of his memory. He arose and went to the window, and throwing it open, let in a flood of moonlight. After musing a few moments, he turned around and said, "I will improvise a sonata to the moonlight." Then followed the wonderful composition that we all know so well.

However, to introduce cold and disagreeable fact into this rather poetic account, that which he improvised that night in the moonlight, while it probably contained many of the themes that we now hear in the sonata, yet to us who know Beethoven's method of writing and his habit of rewriting, revising and polishing over and over again his manuscripts, it is also probable that the improvision bore little resemblance to the finished work. The first movement of the "Moonlight" Sonata is slow, stately and somber, like a beautiful and formal garden lying still and expectant in the dark of the evening. Then comes quietly stealing through the somber background of the accompaniment, a sad and infinitely lovely melody, permeating the whole movement, until the full meaning of its eerie and mystic beauty is revealed; even as the rising moon gradually bathes our darkening garden in silvery splendor. After a breathless pause, the second movement begins, and our garden is suddenly filled with dancing sprites, ethereal and delicate, as we know that sprites must be, but moving with an abandonment of rhythm that carries the spirit away in a whirl of delight. A sudden break, another hush of suspense, and the third movement begins: like a gust of wind that lashes the trees and sends the sprites scurrying, the notes falling in a rushing, whirling torrent. Clouds race across the sky, but every now and then through the breaks the moon is seen riding majestically, flooding the tortured garden with calm and serene melodies of light.

About this Article

This article, written by Varnum Tefft, was taken from the June 1922 issue of "Etude Musical Magazine."

Emily Sigers
emily@thepianopages.com