Chapter 24: The Concert in Carneghie Hall in E minor (Part 2)
I admit, it wasn’t as bad as I thought.
-stia! He can play one mean piano solo.
Makes you wonder if the giant is really deaf a-
These were the sort of comments that Ludwig was reading off the magic scroll as he passed by the rows of ponies. While the orchestra was resting for the intermission, Ludwig went around to not only trying to find his guide but to see what these ponies’ reaction to the concerto was.
He felt a tug coming from his coattails, turning around and looking down, he saw a filly with a book.
“Yes?” Putting the book down, the filly looked up and the old man saw the filly’s lips move. He was able to pick up a word, “Autograph?” he asked and he nodded. Looking down at the tiny book, he picked it up and flipped it open to see other written names on there. “You want me to sign in here?” again, she nodded.
Picking out a pencil from his pockets, Ludwig opened to a blank page and wrote simply: L. V. Beethoven, before passing the book back to her. After looking at it, the filly looked up and started talking to him. “Wait a moment little one,” he said before unrolling the scroll. “What did you say?”
“I said I like the music so far,” she told him. “I really like the piano bits at the end.”
“Thank you kindly,” Ludwig looked around the music hall. “Do you happen to know where I can find Princess Twilight? I’m looking for her.”
Although Beethoven didn’t hear what she said, he did saw her pointing towards the center of the auditorium, where he finally spotted the alicorn and the dragon. Forcing himself to have to step over the rows of empty seats and over their heads, Ludwig made his way over to Twilight. “Well then,” he asked, “Did you like it?”
“I must say,” said Twilight, “you’ve managed to share with us something quite new tonight.”
“How are you able to write all that?” Spike asked. “I mean, how did you manage to think that up?”
“I’ve always been good at the piano,” Ludwig replied simply. Looking up at the balconies, he asked, “Is the vulture here? This other prince?”
The Princess of Friendship looked behind her, “I think… there! Up there on the top balcony, he’s the one with the blond mane and white coat.”
“Do you know him? This prince?”
She nodded, “I do. I do remember running into him in the past. Though I’m surprised that he hasn’t fallen asleep as of yet. He usually hates going to these kinds of performances, especially when classical is involved.”
“Is this prince like you?” Twilight tilted her head and asked what he meant. “Is he like you, a friend of the people?”
Both Spike and Twilight looked at each other, “Eh… more or less.” The baby drake confessed but frowned, “He usually deals with foreign diplomats then anything else. Or at least, that’s as far as I know.”
Ludwig looked up, now seeing that the white unicorn has taken notice of him as well.
_*_
“I thought it was nice,” one of Blueblood’s servants commented.
The prince looked over to the one that spoke. “At least it wasn’t exactly boring by any means, I’ll give you that. But it seems that this music lacked the energy that his last symphony had.”
“Well, maybe we’ll have more luck with the next act.”
Several minutes later, after the piano was carefully carried off the stage of the hall and after the orchestra returned, they were ready to play the “new” symphony. The conductor, Sea Sharp, came on stage to the sound of applause from the theater. After she and the Philharmonic bowed, the stomping died down until the room was quiet once again.
On stage, the conductor lifts her baton, to which the strings and winds gave a bewildering surprise. Instead of the thunderous opening like the beginning, this time it was soft, dark even as it began slowly. Violas, cellos and double basses gave the dark opening some texture before the violin and bassoons crept up. There was an unusually serious tone for the first few minutes of the beginning as the strings cast shadows inside the white hall.
Blueblood softly sighed, “Oh please don’t tell me this is all we’re going to be hearing.” He whispered to a nearby servant, “If this goes on for another minute, pull out the kit.”
Still, the orchestra slowly crept as pizzicato were added to the gentle nose that seemed to keep going, much to the confusion of the younger audience.
A minute later, the prince said, “Alright, that’s it, open up the case.”
The servants opened up the “Classical kit” in which they started to pull out the items from it. They were about to hoof it over to the prince until they’ve noticed that the strings were getting louder. Before anypony knew it, the horns banished the dark beginning like the first rays of sunshine.
A brief pause, and just like that, the energy that was missing, now galvanized itself to live before the strings galloped forward. Winds followed shortly after the strings as if they now began a race through a festival of sound. All the while, the clarinets, and bassoons gave it a folksy like atmosphere while the first and second violins spiced things up with their need of speed.
The servants looked over to Blueblood, who by at this time had sat up. “Huh… that was unexpected.” With a wave of a hoof, he dismissed the kit.
He looked around him in the music hall towards those that were younger than himself. This time, instead of the board looks he saw just moment’s ago, were now replaced with curiosity, intrigue, even tapping hooves at the rhythms of the violins. The way that the entire string section seemed to bounce compared to the first few minutes was noticeable in this carnival-like atmosphere.
_*_
Beethoven was pleased to hear from his headphones that the younger audience erupted to applause at the end of the first movement. Though admittingly, he was rather confused when he also saw the older ponies nearby trying to shush them. ‘Why are they doing that for?’ Ludwig wondered, ‘If they liked it, shouldn’t they show it?’
When the adults were successful of shushing everypony, the conductor cued to continue onto the second movement. Though at first Beethoven could barely hear it, he remembered composing this movement. The pastoral strings now added not only a contrast to the first but color to the symphony. Indeed, the violins and winds painted a picture of a warm but windy summer’s day in the Viennese countryside.
Ludwig could almost picture the scene himself, walking under the shade of rustling of autumn leaves overhead while a river shimmered in the light of the noonday sun. It reminded him of those beautiful walks in the Vienna Woods where the oaks, spruces, firs, beech, and hornbeam in all their color. The strings give the wind momentum as it tumbles and cascades through the trees. While quiet, it was peaceful in a way, like how he wanted the world to be.
Yet, from the orchestra, when it climbs to a crescendo only to quickly go soft was a rather interesting surprise for those listening in the music hall. Even at its slowest points, everypony could pick up that something was going on. As if the Philharmonic was challenging everyone at every step of the way. Just when they think they know what to expect, it suddenly changes on them.
“Almost sounds like home, doesn’t it?” Spike whispered to Twilight.
The alicorn looked down at her assistant, “What do you mean?”
“It’s just that…” the baby Drake paused for a moment. “I don’t know, it just reminds me of Ponyville a bit. I mean, just really listen to that, doesn’t it remind you of home?”
Twilight closed her eyes and focused on the music. As she listened, the memories she’d made with her friends came to mind. From the friendship lessons to their misadventures, this movement captured everything why she fell in love living in Ponyville, even after she became a Princess. Yes, life was slower there than in Canterlot, but as chaotic as it could get, she remembered the friends she’d made there that made the town so special.
Opening her eyes, she told her dragon assistant, “You’re right, this feels like home.”
_*_
When the last movement came around, it was as if the whole string section had taken flight. Although short, there were several times in the music where the orchestra had tastefully exploded. Bows from the violins to the violas trembled as notes soared upward and over the audience’s heads. For many, it was the musical equivalent of watching fireworks on a fairground. It was just as unpredictable as it was exciting to listen to as each instrument and section seemed to pop with colors and lights against a nocturnal background.
For the Prince, not only was he surprised to find that bringing his kit was completely useless, but he was rather intrigued by the nosy music. While he couldn’t exactly tell if he would listen to it again a second time, it did keep his interest for this whole hour. Given the fact, what the giant did here was quite an accomplishment in and of itself!
By the time it ended, the music hall roared with applause as soon as the last, climatic notes echoed in the theater. Even the prince too stood up as there was a standing ovation. When the lights came on, Beethoven himself walked up toward the frontal stage in which he got the best viewpoint of the applause. He, along with the entire orchestra, bowed to their audience.
Princess Twilight flew out of her seat and went up to shake the composer’s hand, “That… was… really… good,” she said slowly.
When the theater was quiet enough, it was now Prince Blueblood’s turn to speak. “Mr. Beethoven?” he addressed. With a little help from the Princess of Friendship to single the deaf man to unroll the scroll for him to communicate before letting the prince continued. “I think that on behalf of all the ponies here, you have exceeded all of our expectations.”
There was an agreement with the audience.
Blueblood continued, “Overall, I think that what you’ve shared with us is something that’s quite new. Giving some spice to something considered bland, which is very refreshing if you ask me. Though I personally prefer the last symphony, I still think what we’ve heard was rather good.”
Ludwig frowned as he looked up from the scroll, “Why? Was something wrong with them?”
“What? No. I’m not saying that what we’ve heard was bad per-say. What we’ve heard was ingenious, quite new. But every now and then, just now and then mind you, it seemed a rather touch… Oh… How do I put this? Too many notes. Yes! That’s it, there’re simply too many notes.”
Now Beethoven shot him with a disapproving gaze, “This is absurd.”
“Oh come, come, my friend, what we’ve heard was excellent. It’s bold, it’s creative, and it simply has too many notes, just cut a few and it’ll be perfect.”
The whole audience saw the giant had a look in his eye that seemed as if he was ready to rip the prince’s head off. “You don’t speak for my work,” he said.
“Sorry?”
“What would you know about being an artist? All you do is carrying out forgettable politics, and you judge my music? Look at you! You with your servants and comforts, you don’t speak for anyone inside this room other than yourself.”
“Excuse me,” Blueblood said offended as he marched over to the edge of the balcony. “How dare you, what gives you the right to say that to me?”
“I’ll tell you what gives me the right,” he declared. “Unlike you, God gives me the right. When most artists listen carefully, just to even hear so much of a whisper from the Almighty with their ears, while God SCREAMS INTO MINE!!” Ludwig roared before continuing, “That’s why I am deaf. Since you seem to be such an eloquent speaker, sir, perhaps when you go mute, only then you’ll have the authority to judge anyone.”
“And unlike you, I’m a Prince that has power over you hotheaded swine.”
There was a gasp in the theater. But when Beethoven read off from the scroll, he rolled it up, put it in his pocket and said, “That is why we are so different. What you are, you are by accident of birth; what I am, I have made it my own. Mark this: there has been, and always will be a thousand Prince Bluebloods, just like you; BUT THERE’S ONLY ONE BEETHOVEN!!”
There wasn’t a single jaw that wasn’t dropped to the floor when they heard that. For Ludwig, completely offended, he turns his back on the prince, strolled up the stage and exited from the way he came. However, he was quickly followed by Twilight as she raced after him.
“Mr. Beethoven!” she called out, but then quickly remembered that he can’t hear. She managed to catch up to him at the stage entrance where he opened the door to a rainy alley. Maneuvering around him, she pulled out the magic scroll, unrolled it and said. “Ludwig, that was completely uncalled for!”
“I don’t want to be here,” he said as he snatched the scroll from her. “I’m going back to Ponyville.”
She teleported in front of him, “But it’s too late to go back.”
But Beethoven didn’t hear it; he simply walked around her and onto the street.
“Ludwig!”
Now in the down pouring of rain, the composer retraced his steps back to the train station in hopes of getting a ticket to Ponyville as soon as possible, even if he had to spend all night waiting. He didn't look back at the theater nor noticed the ponies with their umbrellas were noticing him. While his mind was still hot with fury, he did realize on the way that he couldn't help but sense a sort of Déjà vu.
Several blocks down, he began to realize that this has happened before. He said something very similar to another patron of his years ago on a rainy night, much like this. Back then, he was writing the Appassionata when another prince had spoken unfairly to him, and in front of some French officers who were station there at the time too. Beethoven remembered how he got so upset that he walked out of the mansion that night to walk back to his apartment, where to this day the steaks of rain are still visible on the manuscript.
Reaching the station and showing the ticket, he found out that the earliest ride to Ponyville was in the morning. So finding one long bench that extended through the length of a wall, Beethoven lay down on it while he was still wet. Eventually, he fell asleep, but in the slow hours of the station, a shadow stood over, exclaiming carefully of the sketches of the Tenth Symphony.
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7541659 That would be fine, if it weren't for three fundamental things to consider:
1: While I do use German words and sentences, most of the story is in English for the obvious reason that I speak only English.
2: The audience that I'm concerned about here is also English speaking. So it wouldn't make sense to give everyone on this particular site a story that's in German.
3: I too found this out about what "other" languages Beethoven spoke a little too late, and at this point, it won't even matter because we have to remember that there's a reason why this site is called "FIM Fiction." Besides, there's a reason why I put an "Alternative Universe" tag.
So here's a question: Even with some details that are historically incorrect (like Beethoven getting kidnapped, forced to write his tenth symphony, speaking English, reading lips) does this automatically make this a bad story?
Damn you Prince Blueblood your such a wasted of Space, go dig yourself a grave hole and DIE!!!
Bah Too many notes he's Clueless mule.
Do I detect an Amadeus reference?
well no it's your Story you can go with the flow my good friend and beside I really like your story don't get me wrong I really like your story and you have my support.
Now I'm imagining if the shadow came to Ludwig and instead gave him a year to pick his greatest ever composition and remove ten notes from it. I get the feeling he wouldn't be able to do it
7541852 From all the research I could find, when it came to his composition and the musicians that played is music for the first time, he would rarely do that, if at all. For him to add something to his work was extremely difficult, but to remove? Impossible!
7541850 I know what you've meant, I actually found that comment rather amusing and I knew that I did my job just right.
On to the 5th
7541858 I really wish I could imagine how he felt about his work. Was he so certain that it was the best it could've possibly been? That it couldn't be improved anymore? I guess if he spent so long on one composition, he would probably have refined it thousands of times, but still, I can't quite grasp such a mindset. It's really interesting. Then again, I can hardly imagine how one woud even compose something that they can't listen to in the process (hum, or put together on a computer). Could he hear how the whole compositions would sound, every note of every instrument, as he was creating them?
In the most Simple terms I can say for this chapter, Shit just got real.
7541844 Damn it you beat me to it!
7542139 For Beethoven, it wasn't just on one piece that he refined thousands of times, but several at a time! Remember, he didn't start to go deaf until he was 26, he said that he already knew what each sound the orchestra made. He had heard what each instrument sounded like and had talked with musicians about the limits of their instruments. Given that he, like Mozart, he was thinking of music 24/7, the fact that not only could he hear the whole orchestra and choir in his head, but that he used to work on two or three pieces at the same time is what's really incredible.
During my research on Beethoven, I found something that delves into the refining process of his most famous work:
7542608 Now that is damn interesting and raises lots of questions (thanks for sharing that video!
). How much more productive could Beethoven have been with modern tools? (Assuming he would actually use them and not scoff at them for whatever reason). Is the ongoing evolution of the tools limiting the need for human creativity and ingenuity? Nowadays we (presumably) don't have to have such a perfect, intimate knowledge of every instrument as to have them available in our heads. We can just listen to a computer-made approximation as much and as soon as we want. One would think the ease would allow for better things, but it's also very probable that the need to expend an effort is what makes a big difference. 
Would Beethoven be awestruck at the new opening possibilities or regard it as perverse or lazy?
Also, I know people's brains are sometimes wired slightly differently, even just a couple extra connections can make a much more creative person (something about being able to associate things that other people can't and thusly express stuff like emotions and ideas through completely different things such as sound and image - not the coded kinds like speech and written word, of course). I feel like you would need special wiring to be a prodigy who could imagine and conceive on a level that we regular people can barely fathom. Perhaps he did have a biological pre-desposition for music, in that sense. But could he have chosen a different medium if his childhood went completely differently? I suspect he could, if he was shaped to love and obsess over different things which is entirely possible - they don't call them "formative years" for nothing.
Personally, I've always been a lover of modern music that's styled after classical.
It's such a silly contrast to the majesty of Beethoven, but I mean something like, say, some of the town themes in Heroes 3. Much simpler, but some of them carry a lot of emotion (Tower, Fortress, Necropolis). Wonder what Beethoven would've thought of them. Probably nothing better than what you depicted him thinking of Vinyl's music.
Also, something just occurred to me. I don't mean these as suggestions or ideas for you, but rather as speculation of a possible plotline for a story such as yours. One word: Sirens. More words: imagine if he went to the Equestria Girls "almost-human" world. Like if Twilight went "oh, you're a human? I got a bunch of those living through this here mirror". And then he could single-handedly defeat the sirens.
7545383 He did when he was up close.
Blueblood, just give up.
7547691 troll.me/images/billy-mays/but-wait-theres-more.jpg
There will be thousands of people born into wealth and power by accident or luck, but there will only ever be one of any great artist like Beethoven. Just as there is only one Mozart. Hayden. Bach. There will only be the ones, but they will live forever and be remembered for ages on till all of society dies with the last human. But Bluebloods will be forgotten after they pass.
Aristocrats may think they are immortal. But people like Beethoven achieved true immortality.
Biggest one I've heard from this fandom that's for sure.
I KNEW I HEARD THAT "TOO MANY NOTES'' BEFORE
7568136
First, let us define what immortality means.
In the most literal sense, it means "impossible to kill" or "being able to live forever". While there are those who are born in power be it political, social, religious or economic (Elizabeth the great, Karl Marx, Gandhi, etc) these people are those who were capable of not only changing the world in which they live in (at a social standpoint) but also the world beyond (Gandhi going against the caste system, Karl Marx along with Thomas Engel writing Das Capital and creating Marxism) these are few individuals who were born with nothing and yet, they've managed to move mountains by just being alive.
Then there are those who are born in power and do nothing about it besides bothering, torturing, killing others (Erzebeth Bathroy, Vlad Tepes, Attila the Hun) sadly (or should I say fortunately?) fits in the latter category, as far as both this story and the cartoon so far, he's done very little for Equestria as a whole while Ludwig clawed his way to the pinnacle of the world of music, and despite how long he has been dead, his music is still as wonderful and grand as when he was alive.