//------------------------------// // Chapter 41: New Year in C # minor // Story: Beethoven's Tenth // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// The day after Hearths Warming, Ludwig was back to work once again. Lyra, Bon Bon, Derpy, and Dinky knew that he was at it again when the familiar sounds of marching feet, nonsensical singing, banging chords and splashing of water could be heard above their heads in the mornings. Bon Bon, in particular, was grateful for the new radio so that she could turn up the volume whenever her neighbor was making nonsensical noises overhead. On the morning before the start of a new year, Lyra looked up from their dining room table from her breakfast and said, “What do you think he’s doing up there?” The Candymaker shrugged, “Probably back to composing again. Did you take a look at the state of his room?” “I did,” the Unicorn cut an orange in half, “he’s back to writing on the walls again. Only this time, I think he’s writing notes too in a language I’ve never seen before.” “How do you know they’re notes?” “Like the other day when Mr. Beethoven has gone out for his walks, I went in to find the maid was copying the stuff on the walls right? Well, I’ve noticed that it was scribbled with arrows and I did pick up some of the names on the walls like Buch, Vifilly, Moztrot, Little Strongheart, but that’s all I could read next to the musical notation. Some of it was crossed out while others were circled. It’s like he’s trying to organize something.” “Maybe it’s the new symphony or something,” Bon Bon shrugged. “Speaking of which,” she picked up the newspaper nearby, “I’ve read somewhere that the Ponytones are going to be singing live tonight for the first time on the radio.” “Really? What are they singing?” “Some arrangement by Mr. Beethoven,” she answered. “It’s gonna be playing on the national channel, and it’s suggested by the composer and Princess Celestia herself.” “Think we’ve might give it a listen to it when the clock strikes midnight?” Bon Bon shook her head, “No need apparently, given this guy’s popularity, anypony with a radio might be tuning in, since its being broadcast throughout the country.” “Well, I guess we might as well give it a listen to at the party tonight.” The stomping from overhead ceased, “You think we ought to invite him?” “Something tells me that he’ll be too busy to attend it,” Bon Bon commented. _*_ On paper, the two violins played faster, higher, adding double steps to the chords to which it got so high that in Ludwig’s eyes, it collapsed. With a frustrated growl, his pen smothered the offending phrase out of existence before ripping the page altogether. “Verdammt! Diese Balken wird nicht funktionieren.” The feeling of it wasn’t quite right, nor was it the tone of those dueling violins in the first movement. It was as if Beethoven was overlooking something important. Over by his nightstand, he looked over at the charging music player and his pair of headphones. He needed a break and time to reflect on what he was going to do next. He got up to put them on while going over his notes that have been circled. After finding the name, he turned on the small device and scrolled down the playlist until he came to a piece that piqued his interest. It was the First Movement of Vifilly’s Violin Concerto in A Minor that he pressed play on. Pressing his hands against the speakers, he felt the vibrations of the violins and harpsichord in their menuet. In his imagination, this old fashioned music danced around in their strange Venetian masks. Given its minor progressing chords, he saw it was night time in his mind’s eye, probably sometime during the crazy Carnival that he heard about. It was dark but reeked of elegance at the same time in its entertainment. When the solo violin came into play, it dances its own ballet alone, leaping and sidestepping in and out between the light and darker keys before the rest of the strings copied the soloist’s variation. This dancing movement of the simple strings was lively as it was mysterious. Almost like a star ballerina with its twists, bends and jumps upon the grand stony plaza where it wasn’t flooded. The other strings moved about in waves like the waters that famous city was built upon in Ludwig’s mind. Going back at the only standing piano with the music player in his pocket, he looked back at the mini-concerto in the first movement and realized what it was missing. A dance-like movement in the melody – with the music still playing on his skull, Ludwig sketched the offending passages to intimidate the ballet of strings, crossing out the winds while at it. Yet, unlike the composer he was half listening to, he suddenly got an idea to let the dueling violins to play continuously in this tiny concerto of his symphony. Where notes hung as the Allegro stepped over to Largo and suddenly leaps back to the Allegro again. Even after the music from the tiny machine faded away, Beethoven found his inspiration to complete it, leaving only the fugue in need to be taken care of. Eventually, his hand was aching from the rewrite. ‘Alright, at least I have a good outline of that part now. I guess I can write up the strings by tomorrow… But what about the Fourth Movement?’ So sitting back down on his bed went through the playlists to sample pieces that Little Strongheart had recorded for him. Up until now, he hadn’t settled on how the Fourth Movement should be structured. But Ludwig had already narrowed down to three interesting recordings for inspiration and deleted those he had no use for. ‘The closing piece needs to be something different,’ he thought. ‘Something that no other composer has ever done before, but the question remains is how? I want this to stand out from any other movement of all of my symphonies. Only, how exactly is one to write it?’ He first selected from the playlist a song called, “The Medicine Chant.” The first thing he could pick up from the vibrations was an odd rattling of metal for several seconds before a solo wind instrument took the lead. In all of his years and his memory of each instrument, Beethoven heard nothing like it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a bassoon, nor a clarinet, or piccolo, or even a flute. But as the rattling became a beat with the drums, Ludwig thought that this wind instrument was something ancient. Then from his jawbone, he picked up voices in a language he couldn’t understand. It had a rather odd effect on the instruments as the voices were not keeping to the same beat. As more voices came into the chat at different octaves, it became interestingly complex as this chant without a melody became richly textured. It was like a primitive fugue only there wasn’t a subject, much to Ludwig’s curiosity. What interested in this chant that even with all its layers of sound and timing, there was not a moment of disharmony in it! Somehow, in some way, while each member performing was playing a few simple notes, it was in a way timeless that any note could go to any other note. As he listens carefully as he could through the ringing in his ears, he could have sworn that they managed to find harmony, even when the singers weren’t in the same key! ‘Could such a thing be possible?’ he wondered. ‘Is it possible to break every rule of composition and still result in something so complex?’ When that chant ended, the next song began; this one was called “The War Chant.” It started as a steady drumbeat when a solo voice started the melody in that strange language. Not too long, the beat of the drum became sharper sounding, darker even as more voices joined in the chant with the rattling metal sound. As the beat became faster, more voices joined in as shouts and calls flew up like frighten birds. Ludwig could imagine warriors, long before recorded time, preparing themselves for a fierce battle against their enemy. Crowing and intimidating battle cries became more visible as the beat became faster still. It was if an army of Ravens with spears, bows, and arrows were singing this before they charged at their pray. Before he moved on to the next song, Ludwig paused it as he had an interesting thought, ‘Nearly every symphony, from every composer, has ended their music on a triumphant note. Why my last one was a tremendous rush of joy to the very end – a happily ever after. But this music… this ancient music… there’s a sense of melancholy to its complexity.’ With this thought in mind, he presses play for the last listed song, simply titled “Lullaby.” From the vibrations, he heard that voice again, only this time; there was no drumbeat, just the voice that was singing slowly. Relaxed, calm, but somehow sad in his language, the melody Beethoven noticed that it was in a steady, minor key. Then, came the wind’s solo. That unknown instrument repeated the melody from the beginning, yet, gave an almost improvise sound as it progressed. To Ludwig, it seemed sadder but still beautiful like a dying bird. Even at its crescendo, the instrument was soft like a grandmother’s voice. As Ludwig was listening, a thought came to him, ‘Perhaps, the only way to end this symphony, was to tell a unique story, in a unique way. It will end with tragedy, in which my symphony will end like this: soft, simple, lonely, but beautiful nonetheless. Just as it began with the cello… it will end with the cello.’ Opening his eyes, he went over to his composition book and flipped over to the near back of it. There he wrote in his idea: “4th Movement: Adagietto. Die Zukunft Pathetique.” _*_ Later that evening at Sugar Cube Corner, Pinkie was throwing the annual New Year’s celebration as ponies danced, talked and played games until midnight. In one corner of the shop, the cake’s new radio was playing, providing the background noise for those who ate and drank the night away. Sitting at a table, Octavia found herself talking to the Princess of Friendship. “So Ms. Melody,” Twilight began, “any news from the orchestra?” “There is, Your Majesty,” the cellist replied. “Starting in a few days, we’re going to tackle a piece for violin and orchestra, an Overture, and his Seventh Symphony. This time, we’re planned to go to Baltimare to play a concert.” “How difficult are these pieces?” Octavia looked at her with a deadpanned expression, “It’s Beethoven, how hard do you think they are? But anyway, at the same time, Ludwig wants to hold an audition for the sole purpose of putting together a string quartet to play some experimental pieces he’s written during his time in Equestria. After that, we’ll go to Vanhoover to perform this piece in a language nopony understands, and to play it right after Winter Wrap Up.” “I somewhat remember Mr. Beethoven talking about that,” Twilight nodded. “I think it’ll be interesting to see what it sounds like.” “Do keep in mind,” Octavia pointed out, “That’s just the winter season. I can’t imagine what the spring will bring for us.” “Hey everypony!” everypony turned as Pinkie announced, “It’s almost time for the countdown!” “Turn that radio over;” Applejack called out, “Mah brother will be on any minute now!” There was a hush as the radio was changed to a different station. It was turned in time as a pop song was ending and a stallion’s voice came to the air. “Once again, thank you for joining Equestria National Radio 100.7. We’re now a few moments away from the start of a new year, and joining with us for our celebration is a singing group from Ponyville, the Ponytones, here to probably start a new tradition as they will be singing a new song called, 'Auld Lang Syne,' Arranged by the rising star in both Classical and Pop music, Ludwig van Beethoven. “Now before our first live performance, it’s time to count down to the new year in ten, nine, eight, seven, six-” Everypony in the room counted down with the announcer on the radio, “Five, four, three, two, one, HAPPY NEW YEAR!” There was a cheer in that room. While ponies toasted with their glasses and others kissed whoever was nearby for good luck, the radio started to play something new. A duet piano and violin played a short prelude in a form of a march before familiar voices started to sing proudly. “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, “and never brought to mind? “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, “and auld lang syne? “For auld lang syne, my dear, “for auld lang syne, “we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, “for auld lang syne.” “That’s mah brother!” Applejack cried, “He’s famous now!” “We twa hae run about the braes, “and pou'd the gowans fine; “But we've wander'd mony a weary fit, “sin' auld lang syne. “For auld lang syne, my dear, “for auld lang syne, “we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, “for auld lang syne. “And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! “and gie's a hand o' thine! “And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught, “for auld lang syne. “For auld lang syne, my dear, “for auld lang syne, “we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, “for auld lang syne.” Twilight turned to Octavia, “What do you think?” The Cellist raised an eyebrow, “It’s a catchy little tune, but I do have one question.” “That being?” She looked at the Princess in the eye and asked, “Were they speaking Equestrian?”