In Applewood’s many hills, there is one place that’s considered as a natural amphitheater which combined with the slopes of the hills and a concrete shell; the acoustics have become legendary in which anypony in the very back could hear just as well and at the same volume as those who are sitting in the front. It was here that a unique concert took place, completely sold out for a battle of the bands between the famous Countess Coloratura’s songs, and a new symphony from Ludwig van Beethoven. It was on that stage that Pop and Classical face in a duel to a jury of several thousand that crowded in that night.
There was a coin toss for whom to go first for the first half hour – to which, the countess won that round.
An hour after sunset, the concert began with a roar from the audience as soon as the electronic music came on. From the wings of the shell, the orchestra waited with Beethoven, who looked on with a pair of headphones playing out the music that’s going onstage. He sat there, folding his arms as he watches the light show, complete with an army of dancers, fireworks, fog machines, a rainbow of lasers, autotune voices, confetti, pulsing lights, and a continuous beat.
Near the end, Ludwig took off the headphones with a smirk. Octavia notice this, after pulling on his sleeve, it got him to take out the scroll for her to ask, “Aren’t you the least bit nervous?”
Beethoven laughed, “I don’t see why I should. Look out there, if there’s anything that they’re telling me, is that they are desperate.”
This took the cellist by surprise, “Desperate?”
“Have you noticed with all these lights and dancers in their weird costumes, that it’s the equivalent of… how you say… jangling keys in front of an infant. They are trying to distract you from the music they’re making. Ha! If you could call it such! Lyrics about narcissism, having a ‘good time’ (whatever that means), all to the same musical techniques that haven’t changed at all since the days of Herr Haydn. They may have a new sound, but I can play this backward in my sleep.”
Octavia looked over her shoulder, “Don’t ever let Vinyl hear you say that, she’d probably kill you for it.”
“We’ll give them what they came for,” Ludwig added. “No distractions, no bells, and whistles, no dancers to wave flags around. Only pure music, nothing more,” the giant snorted, “Besides if I wanted to go to a show where there are dances in odd costumes, distracting lights, singers that don’t do much, to some mediocre music, I would go see an opera by Rossini.”
“Who?”
Beethoven shook his head, “Never mind, sometimes I forget that I’m not in Europe.”
When the last of the Countess’s songs came to an end, there was an intermission in which the stage was cleared off and was being replaced with rows of chairs and plain white lighting. Vinyl brought out a long cord that extended to the very upper center of the stage that was connected to a pair of headphones with strips of vale crow.
Once everything was set up, one by one, the Philharmonic came on stage to tune their instruments. Meanwhile, on the other side of the shell, Coloratura was taken a breather while gargling down a water bottle. “I think that was pretty good out there,” she heard her manager say. “By the looks of it, I say I already know who’s won this battle.”
“That was a lot of fun out there,” the singer commented. “Really, I think you outdid yourself this time.”
“All for my client,” he smiled while looking onto the stage. “I think we’ve got this in the bag as it is. Look, they don’t even have dancers or special effects or anything. They’re lucky they haven’t been booed yet.”
“Hey, be nice Svengallop,” the Countess told him. “We haven’t heard them play; besides we’ve got a great audience out there so they’re just waiting for what he has.”
Her manager rolled his eyes, “All I’m saying, is that I think everypony knows who the winner here is.”
When the orchestra’s instruments were tuned up, the stage went quiet except for the audience that was in the middle of idle chat. That was until the giant finally walked out on stage to which about half were either applauding or booing, but Beethoven didn’t hear either as he strode to the very center where the headphones were. Putting them on his head, he wrapped the velcro around and tested it to make sure it won’t come off. Giving a nod, a small green light came on to which indicated that the headphones were on.
Svengallop sat down, with a smug smile and folded his forelegs, he commented, “And an instant win in three… two... o-”
“LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!!” the orchestra gave out a surprise battle cry before Ludwig started to conduct. Eight simple but powerful notes were being played out, yet, at the same time, it was so odd sounding that there was instant confusion among everypony.
“What they hey was that?” Svengallop voiced his thoughts along with the others before the orchestra suddenly silenced them with a crescendo. By now, no matter what anypony came to listen to, Beethoven now had everyone’s attention as the first movement developed. The strings were now taking the lead in this uprising with the winds were joining in their endeavors. Soon the brass followed in this outrage, it was as if the whole orchestra from the percussionist downward had enough and was taking some part in a riot.
Unlike the Countess that came before, there was no distraction; there was nothing at all to sugarcoat this outburst of the sound of anarchy. Yet, even in the chaos, there was some a rhyme and reason that adapted, flipped, punched, kicked, turned over, and changed at a whim with the music that had no structure. Even the very mood changes as it goes from pure rage to pure kindness in an instant and back again. But those four powerful notes were always present no matter where the orchestra turned.
Over the listeners, there was a storm of notes that assaulted them with roaring winds and thunderous drums that was immediately countered by strings and brass that tossed them into a whirlwind of sound. All they heard was raw, unapologetic, and basic but a strong force of nature that was as tough as the earth they stood on that nearly shook.
The Countess looked over to her manager who had only a look of horror, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
That was the problem. As aggressive and uncompromising as it was, it really was not only good, but it had more complexity than any of her client’s songs put together. Even though this orchestra, one that only plays classical music, was giving out a performance that didn’t need anything to hide behind and were putting their all into it. He could practically see all the fans and bits going up in flames. He realized that he was biting into something that was far bigger then he could chew.
And the worst part, there was nothing in Equestria he could do about it. Beethoven was the one that was in control. This music is not a revolt; it is a revolution that was unstoppable.
_*_
A few minutes later, Ludwig let out the abrupt ending of the first movement, in which, from the vibration of his headphones, could sense the audience was already clapping, shouting even. But the symphony had to continue, he gave a moment for them to settle down before moving onto the second movement.
This one was calmer compared to the first, the violas, cellos and the plucking of double basses begin with a lyrical promise of liberty. After the establishment of the theme, the orchestra joins in, contributing to this dream of freedom from fear, oppression, or censorship of their art. There was a sense of childhood like hope that everything that they could ever want was just around the corner. Momentum in the strings that opportunity was near, one in which that it would lead towards a golden age for music. One that was cleaver, better, and kinder, yet, all of them know that such a dream has not been reached.
Octavia looked up from the easier passages over to the audience that was behind Beethoven. In the bright overhead lights, she could make out the sea of faces in the darkness of teenagers that were listening. Really listening! For some in the front rows, they had a look of appreciation of being taken seriously. Even in this slower, but noble movement, the music was reaching something deeper within themselves. There was bewilderment when the orchestra went down a sudden turn or a sharp change in mood as if they were trying and failing at predicting where the music was going to go.
For Ludwig, however, it was the very sound of everything that he believed in mankind when the revolution first came to France, and all the promise it brought of a better future in the name of liberté, égalité, fraternité. Before the bloodshed or Napoleon, this music reminded him of what he used to believe France could pave the way for a better, brighter future for everyone, regardless of class or power. That was until that very dream was blown up in his face.
In the massive crowd, some of them were commenting every so often as the second movement swell and shifted. “It sounds like the soundtrack to a movie.” One said, “Just when you think you got it down, it changes on ya. Didn’t think classical can do that,” said another.
_*_
` The third movement began with cellos and double basses before the brass and violins began a steady march towards that dream of liberty. Now committed to their quest, they seem unstoppable as the notes were going forward to the audience. Even for those who like the Countess’s music, they’ve noticed that their hooves were tapping during the march. Here and there, heads bobbed or lips moved to the rhythm of the giant that even without having a copy of the manuscript in front of him was conducting them just fine. At the very quiet parts, he would crouch down; his back bent low like a lion in the grass before he would stand straight up tall at the louder parts.
For the young that made up most of the crowd didn’t seem to notice how long the symphony was taking. Even most the foals that happen to have bought the ticket for the Countess didn’t seem board from the music changes all the time. Their ears were paying attention to the stage, even when there was very little going on.
From the crescendos to the quiet parts of the scherzo, like that of Ludwig’s third symphony, there wasn’t a single dull moment.
Then suddenly, the strings went out of control from the march and went into an ecstasy of the excited impatient hurry. Again the audience was in bewilderment at this upbeat but confusing change of mood that swirls around them like flies since the notes were going so fast that they nearly seemed to be everywhere at once.
But just as quickly as that odd passage came, it returned to the march, only less confident as before. A few minutes later between the pizzicato and the flute, there were only the low notes of the strings and a drum beat. For a moment, the music took an incredibly dark turn, almost as if the composer was lost – violins wavered as if searching for a way out before growing again in confidence.
Then, out of the darkness, the orchestra came to a blinding and loud light. Piccolo, flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, double bassoons, horns, trumpets, trombones, now shine brighter and bigger than they ever did at the very beginning. Doubt was banished when the strings and wind come charging in to overthrow everypony’s preconceptions of what Classical was meant to be. Joy and freedom were now the order of the day as the orchestra united as one to overthrow the injustice that they were once under.
For ten minutes straight, even when there were a couple of moments of breath, there was momentum, even in those rare seconds of silence.
The Countess bobbed her head to the rhythm of the rich sound while her manager was sweating like a waterfall. He was regretting of even coming up with such competition now that Beethoven was not only proving that he has good music, but it exceeded above and beyond his lowered expectations. His future was up in the air now as the Philharmonic was playing proudly and triumphant.
Several minutes later, although their period instruments were played to near collapse, although the members were barely holding together, they all crossed the finished line as they played the last strong notes before the audience erupted in an avalanche of applause. Beethoven could pick up from the headphones there were screams of approval behind him, turning around he saw the young of Equestria was cheering. He, like the orchestra, though sweaty and ready to fall over, stood and bowed.
Minutes of stomping of hooves and whistles later, Princess Twilight along with Countess Coloratura on stage, walking up to Beethoven. The alicorn held a microphone in her magic and said, “Thank you everypony for coming to the battle of the bands! I must say that was quite the show, wasn’t it?”
The teenagers agreed.
“Alright, by a show of applause, let’s see who won tonight’s contest. Those for the Countess?”
She was given applause to which the singer nodded.
“And those for Beethoven?” That applause was immediately drowned out by a scream. Smiling, the princess said, “Then I declare that the winner is Ludwig van Beethoven’s Revolution Symphony!”
Offstage, Svengallop fainted.
The Countess turned to the giant, tapping against his leg, he looked down at her. “I wanted to sa-”
“What?” Ludwig took off the headphones.
“I said I-”
“Oh,” Twilight interrupted as she snatched the magic scroll from the giant’s pocket. “Wait a second… okay there, as you were saying.”
The singer started again, “Mr. Beethoven, it was a lot of fun doing this with you, and I bow to a skill far greater than my own,” she did so before adding. “I wanted to say that was some very great music back there, I loved it. So much so, that you’ve just gained yourself a new fan.”
Beethoven hummed, “Humility… a very rare thing for those the likes of you. Never let go of it.”
“Sir, since you’re here, I have a copy of your third symphony in my dressing room. Could you please stay for a while and sign it for me?”
“Since you don’t seem to be bitter, I think I might indulge in it.”
The Countess held up her hoof, to which, Beethoven shook it.