Did not think of what I said, I learned from myself about each of the musician. And it was true, Mozart is never really appealing to me, despite of what people said about him. Some of his pieces are too cheerful. Meanwhile, Beethoven carried his loneliness, isolation, desperation, and anxiety in most of his piece. For most of my life, loneliness, isolation, desperation, and anxiety were integral parts of me. That was the main reason of my connection with Beethoven. Even his happiest work, Ode to Joy would be somber in a slower rhythm.
Fur Elise used to be my favourite, but as times went by,
Moonlight Sonata defined me more. When he asked me the reason of liking it, I could not explain it briefly. Each of the note carried desperation, so sad and dark. For some people who do not understand classic, this might be considered as scary and perfect for horror movie (shame on you, people!).Now that I am staying in England, the feeling became stronger. I finally saw winter and autumn moon, and it was the real background for Moonlight Sonata. Something soft and calm in the middle of winter tree. A pale light trying to warm the cold and bleak winter. Bleak as the yearning heart for small amount of warmth. The solace and fake peace in the middle of the snow. The long buried pain and scar within the soul finally came arose due to the inability to bear it any longer.
Moonlight Sonata, the music about moon. But moon only occupied small amount of the music. The focus is more on the shadow of the moon. Under the dark shadow from the pale light, darkness awaits. It tempted people and scared them away with hundreds of illusion and deception. The sorrows lurk behind the white sheet of snow patiently wait for the next victim.
Ironically, Moonlight Sonata was originally created as Beethoven's proof of love. Indirectly, it portrays the dark side of the love. The sorrow after the betrayal, and the cold heart unable to love again, falling into pieces. There is this sense of unrecoverable condition, that no matter what happened, nothing could mend the soul. Something has already torn apart and shattered into crumbles. The impossibility of rejuvenation. In one hand, one hated the silence and loneliness, but on the other hand, it is something that one grow accustomed to. There is no way one can live outside the isolation and darkness, for they are what one knows all of one's life.
Shifting the situation into a merrier atmosphere would prove nothing. As the habit goes, one will keep creating a barrier and dwelt in one's own lonely corner.
Ah, Beethoven is just a genius!
