听Bernstein讲音乐总是让人觉得心潮澎湃，摘抄了几段特别喜欢的。
--On Beethoven's life
And who was this extraordinarily paradoxical man Beethoven?
On the one hand, we are told a great master, he was loved, sought after, celebrated, honored in his time and place. On the other hand, we heard of a crotchety monster who had no friends, only admirers, patrons, hangers-on.
He was vital, energetic, forever tramping through his beloved countryside. And yet he was chronically afflicted with colic, bronchitis, liver complaints.
He loved women but had none.
He adored Carl but nearly destroyed him.
His spirit traveled the loftiest spheres. Yet he could drive a hard and not always honorable bargain against his publishers.
But the overriding paradox is this, that the evidence suggests an image of a stunted diseased paranoid cranky man, and yet somehow from within that tortured frame there spoke the voice of an angel.
--On the Ninth Symphony
Well, for the better part of 3 months now, I have been living in terms of Beethoven. Thinking about his life, visiting his houses, reading his letters. But most of all, living with his music. I've studied it, and restudied it, rehearsed it and performed it over and over again. And I may report that I have never been tired of it for a single moment. The music remains endlessly satisfying, interesting and moving, and has remained so for almost two centuries and to all kinds of people. In other words, this music is not only infinitely durable but perhaps the closest music that has ever come to universality. That dubious cliche about music being the universal language almost comes true with Beethoven. No composers ever lived who speak so directly to so many people, to young and old, educated and ignorant, amateur and professional, sophisticated and naive. And to all these people of all classes, nationalities, racial backgrounds, this music speaks a universality of thought, of human brotherhood, freedom and love. In this Ninth Symphony for example, where Beethoven has set Schiller's Ode to Joy in the finale, the music goes so far beyond the poem, gives far greater dimension, vital energy and artistic sparks to these quaint old lines of Schiller. "Alle Menschen werden Brüder." All men become brothers. "Seid umschlungen, Millionen!" Millions embracing! "Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?“ The world you sense your creator? In other words, this music succeeds even for those people for whom organized religion fails, because it conveys a spirit of godhead and sublimity in the freest and least doctrinaire way that was typical of Beethoven. It has a purity and directness of communication which never becomes banal. It's accessible without being ordinary. This is the magic that no amount of talk can explain.But perhaps there was in Beethoven the man, a child inside that never grew up, that to the end of his life remained a creature of grace and innocence and trust, even in moments of his greatest despair. And that innocent spirit speaks to us with hope and future and immortality and it's for that reason that we love his music now more than ever before. In this time of world agony, hopelessness and helplessness, we love his music and we need it. As despairing as we may be, we cannot listen to this Ninth Symphony without emerging from it changed, enriched and encouraged. And to the man who can give the world so precious a gift as this, no honor can be too great, and no celebration joyful enough. It's almost like celebrating the birth of music itself.
--On Beethoven's life
And who was this extraordinarily paradoxical man Beethoven?
On the one hand, we are told a great master, he was loved, sought after, celebrated, honored in his time and place. On the other hand, we heard of a crotchety monster who had no friends, only admirers, patrons, hangers-on.
He was vital, energetic, forever tramping through his beloved countryside. And yet he was chronically afflicted with colic, bronchitis, liver complaints.
He loved women but had none.
He adored Carl but nearly destroyed him.
His spirit traveled the loftiest spheres. Yet he could drive a hard and not always honorable bargain against his publishers.
But the overriding paradox is this, that the evidence suggests an image of a stunted diseased paranoid cranky man, and yet somehow from within that tortured frame there spoke the voice of an angel.
--On the Ninth Symphony
Well, for the better part of 3 months now, I have been living in terms of Beethoven. Thinking about his life, visiting his houses, reading his letters. But most of all, living with his music. I've studied it, and restudied it, rehearsed it and performed it over and over again. And I may report that I have never been tired of it for a single moment. The music remains endlessly satisfying, interesting and moving, and has remained so for almost two centuries and to all kinds of people. In other words, this music is not only infinitely durable but perhaps the closest music that has ever come to universality. That dubious cliche about music being the universal language almost comes true with Beethoven. No composers ever lived who speak so directly to so many people, to young and old, educated and ignorant, amateur and professional, sophisticated and naive. And to all these people of all classes, nationalities, racial backgrounds, this music speaks a universality of thought, of human brotherhood, freedom and love. In this Ninth Symphony for example, where Beethoven has set Schiller's Ode to Joy in the finale, the music goes so far beyond the poem, gives far greater dimension, vital energy and artistic sparks to these quaint old lines of Schiller. "Alle Menschen werden Brüder." All men become brothers. "Seid umschlungen, Millionen!" Millions embracing! "Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?“ The world you sense your creator? In other words, this music succeeds even for those people for whom organized religion fails, because it conveys a spirit of godhead and sublimity in the freest and least doctrinaire way that was typical of Beethoven. It has a purity and directness of communication which never becomes banal. It's accessible without being ordinary. This is the magic that no amount of talk can explain.But perhaps there was in Beethoven the man, a child inside that never grew up, that to the end of his life remained a creature of grace and innocence and trust, even in moments of his greatest despair. And that innocent spirit speaks to us with hope and future and immortality and it's for that reason that we love his music now more than ever before. In this time of world agony, hopelessness and helplessness, we love his music and we need it. As despairing as we may be, we cannot listen to this Ninth Symphony without emerging from it changed, enriched and encouraged. And to the man who can give the world so precious a gift as this, no honor can be too great, and no celebration joyful enough. It's almost like celebrating the birth of music itself.
