[MUSIC] Thrilling as the first movement is, Opus 7 really turns extraordinary in the second movement. One of Beethoven's greatest gifts was his use of silence to articulate the grammar of the music, to heighten tension, and simply to create atmosphere. Again, this is allegedly a late-period concern, but it is much in evidence not only in Opus 7's slow movement, but in the earliest period slow movements in general. Here is the opening of the slow movement of the previous sonata, Opus 2 number three. [MUSIC] This is really breathtaking stuff. What I just played is really only one phrase, which remains unresolved until the very end, and yet it has no fewer than eleven silences. Because there are no cadences until the final one, each phrase within a phrase poses a question. A teacher of mine used to always say that Beethoven must have been Jewish because he always answers a question with another question. Haydn and Mozart in their different ways were also expert at using silence to dramatic effect--particularly Haydn-- but in their cases, "effect" is the operative word as these silences exist outside the general framework of a piece, as sources of unexpected suspense and surprise. These silences by contrast are part of the basic grammar of the music. The entire A section, what I just played of the slow movement, has been one extremely long phrase, and yet the piano has not played for more than a few seconds continuously. So in this way, Beethoven creates the magical effect of a line that is simultaneously an enormous arc and extremely halting--a paradox from a composer who loved paradoxes. This fascination, you know, with having the micro and the macro coexist is a lifelong one for Beethoven, and it only grew stronger with time. Opus 7's slow movement is similar. [MUSIC] This is in one way less remarkable--there are fewer silences and some points of harmonic rest in the middle. But it serves the same function of immediately halting the confidence and momentum which were the signature features of the first movement. The two slow movements share one other quality, which is that they are in keys that are distant from the sonata's home. I spoke briefly in the first lecture about how harmony is color, sonority, and this is really perfect evidence of it. So, you have a point of reference--the most standard practice would be to place the slow movement in the dominant, sub-dominant, or parallel minor. So if this is the tonic [MUSIC] his normal options would be [MUSIC] or [MUSIC] or ... [MUSIC] Instead, Beethoven goes from the tonic ... [MUSIC] here, [MUSIC] which Haydn almost never did-- and when he did it was for shock value-- and Mozart literally never did. It serves to shine a light on these slow movements. I do mean light quite literally. It's significant that the move is always towards a brighter key, with more sharps rather than flats, which save these movements from a kind of generic mellowness. And the key becomes an important tool in giving the slow movements a special gravity-- a totally differentiated sound world and affect from the rest of the pieces. An even more amazing example of this is Beethoven's third piano concerto. It's more amazing because the distance he travels from the first movement to the second is further still. The piece is in C minor, which is the most iconic Beethoven key. It's his shaking his fists at the heavens key. The first movement is very much in that mood. It ends [MUSIC] And out of that somehow comes this. [MUSIC] The key is almost like a metaphor for the independence of the slow movement. And, and its increasing weight in the balance of the sonata as a whole. This really paves the way for the massive slow movements that come later like the Eroica Symphony or the Hammerklavier Sonata. These just would have been unthinkable without the bridge of the early Beethoven slow movement. I would never say that Beethoven's slow movements are greater than Mozart's. But they, they are somehow more transformative. Meaning that they transform us. This business with the short-long phrases, for example, it shows Beethoven's genius for manipulating time. It's not just that these movements are slower than the slow movement of Haydn and Mozart, although it is true that Beethoven was the first composer for whom adagio truly means slow rather than leisurely, which is in fact what it is, as any Italian will tell you. The real issue is that these slow movements, they change our pulse, our perception of time as we listen to them. And he was able to achieve this in his Sonatas Opus 2 and Opus 7. It, it really is a thing worth shaking one's head over. Let's take a short break for a review question.