Piano Concerto No.2 in B flat major Op.19

It took Beethoven a long time to get his Piano Concerto in B flat as he wanted it. Although he started on it perhaps as early as 1788, it wasn’t until 1795 that he worked it into something like its present form. By then he was writing a Piano Concerto in C major, which proved to be far less troublesome. Which of the two Beethoven chose to play on his first public appearance as a concerto soloist in Vienna in 1795 we cannot be sure. But, certainly, the C major score was the first to be published, appearing as Op.15 in 1801 – which explains why the earlier work has the later opus number and is known as Piano Concerto No.2 rather than No.1.

Although Beethoven dismissed the Concerto in B flat as “not one of my best works,” it is certainly more than an imitation of Mozart’s Piano Concerto in the same key, K.595, in spite of the features they have in common. Whereas Mozart’s first movement follows classical procedure in having the orchestra introduce the two main themes before the entry of the piano, Beethoven’s rebels against it. His orchestra takes such interest in exploring the potential of the first group of themes that the soloist has to intervene, in the politest of terms, to remind it to go on to the next. Only then do the violins turn their attention to the second subject. The orchestra insists on retaining its interest in the first subject, even so, and it takes more than a little persuasion from the soloist to bring about a recapitulation with piano and orchestra in agreement about giving the two main themes equal treatment at last. The cadenza, which shares much of the material of the first movement but not much of its spirit, was added to the score in 1809.

The soloist’s powers of persuasion are no less effectively applied in the slow movement where, although the violins introduce the main theme gently enough, the orchestra displays its tendency to forceful self-expression even before the first entry of the soloist. Never forceful itself, the piano relies on restrained dynamics and an elaborately decorative line to charm the woodwind into a serene recall of the main theme in the middle of the movement and utters an eloquent unharmonised recitative to appeal for a quiet ending.

Written to replace a less impulsive finale, the Molto allegro is a brilliant demonstration of the young composer’s wit. It derives its energy from the syncopated rondo theme introduced by the soloist in the opening bars and its variety from the scarcely less tuneful episodes between the several reappearances of that irrepressibly cheerful tune. At the end it doesn’t so much come to a conclusion as disappear in a slow dissolve on the piano, leaving the orchestra to finish things off as best it can.