♫ With the last movement of op. 2 no. 2, we again have music that does the familiar early Beethoven push-pull with tradition. In this case, I'm not sure it's as much about Haydn as was the case in the first two movements. It's more a question of whether Beethoven is content to let a last movement be a lovely, unthreatening end to a multi-movement work, or whether he wanted it to be a capstone, as he always did later in life. This movement is a rondo, to which Beethoven gave the subtitle “grazioso”, just as he did with the finale of the great op. 7. ♫ The finale of op. 2 no. 2, with its courtly elegance, is in some ways a clear predecessor to op. 7, and to op. 22 as well, but its main theme itself is, to my ear at least, more striking. ♫ Extremely lovely, but also VERY florid! If the slow movement of the sonata seemed to mostly evoke instruments, this finale is emphatically, even dramatically, vocal. This is a soprano, doing a bit of showing off. In fact, those enormous leaps: ♫ they always remind me of Fiordiligi’s aria, “Come scoglio”, from Mozart's “Come scoglio”. In both cases, the enormousness of the leap is the point. It takes us from one register to an obviously different one. And on a fortepiano, that difference in registers would have been striking. So, the roots of this movement are a bit different. I would not say that Beethoven uses Mozart as a model, per say, but there is a certain appropriation of Mozart's language and style. And even though the mood is calm and gracious-- grazioso -- the floridity of the music (again, those leaps) is evidence of its theatricality. Still, much of the time this rondo plays by the rules. It has the standard ABACABA coda form, and the B and the C offer contrast, as they would. The B is the same spirit as the opening, just somewhat more jaunty and playful. ♫ With the C, though, the music takes a dramatic turn. Just as the second theme of the first movement broke with tradition by providing a contrast so extreme it seemed to come from another sonata, the rondo C episode is disruptive to an extraordinary degree. Major becomes minor, piano is traded for fortissimo, and the sweetness gives way to a fit of rage. ♫ This really is something. It's not just the absolute contrast, it's the fact that there is no preparation for it. Op. 7 has a stern C section as well, but the preceding bars lead us into it. ♫ In op. 2 no. 2, nothing that comes before -- ♫ can help us predict the storm we are about to find ourselves in the midst of. To my ear, this outburst is somewhat theatrical, and I don't know that I take it entirely seriously, but the lack of preparation gives it a terrific and really unprecedented force, and shows that once again, a movement that began by playing nice and following precedent, Beethoven is still determined to assert himself. This bombastic C episode is not the last time in the piece that Beethoven breaks with tradition. Once the main structure -- the ABACABA -- has played out, Beethoven gives us a fairly massive coda. It doesn't have the harmonic daring of op. 7's coda, with its wild last-minute detour from E flat major into E Major, but it vastly enlarges the proportions of this movement, again showing that this grazioso movement, paradoxically, has a grandeur just itching to assert itself. I'll play the coda in its entirety, so that you can really sense the scope of it. ♫ There's so much here. First, there is a transformation of the opening theme: ♫ Still playful, but no longer grazioso. Then there is the revisiting of that dramatic C section: ♫ Just in case it seemed like a fluke -- no, however enormous the contrast it provides, it belongs in the movement. And then, finally, there's the touching alteration of the opening leap. ♫ creating a vulnerable, tender suspension: ♫ And finally settling the piece down, and facilitating a conclusion as lovely as the opening of the movement would lead one to predict. So the beginning and the end match; it’s just that the middle -- the journey in between the two -- twisted, turned, and hollered in ways that are totally surprising. This is no Waldstein sonata finale -- it's not the glorious summit of the work. But with its proportions and its occasional brutality, it is not a finale that Haydn or Mozart ever would have written. In this way, it's a fitting finale for a work that so often demonstrates Beethoven's ties to an older master, and even more often demonstrates his unwillingness to be hemmed in by them.
