Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67

There are few words in 21st-century English that are more overused than “iconic.” A term that used to be reserved for things that were so well-regarded as to be worthy of veneration, say, the Statue of Liberty or a Gothic cathedral, is now regularly used for things like sneakers or chicken recipes. Despite the complete dilution of the term in its modern context, there is perhaps no better way to describe a piece of music that has become so ingrained in our culture that its opening four notes are instantly recognized almost anywhere. Ludwig van Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, premiered when the composer was 38 and nearly completely deaf, is, in every sense of the term, iconic.

No one would be more surprised than Beethoven to learn that this work, especially the first movement, would grow in popularity to become synonymous with classical music as a whole. From cartoons to television commercials, we still turn to the opening of this symphony when we want to convey that something is sophisticated or important—its first four notes commanding our immediate attention and implying that something consequential is happening. The night of its premiere, however, the work was barely noticed, having been buried in the middle of an over-four-hour-long, all-Beethoven marathon that also included his Sixth Symphony, the Choral Fantasy for Piano, Orchestra and Chorus, three movements from his Mass in C Minor, the Concert Aria “Ah, perfido!,” a keyboard improvisation, and the Piano Concerto No. 4. A freezing cold theater and an under-rehearsed and angry orchestra didn’t help matters, and the exhausted audience likely left the hall that night just happy to have survived the event. Despite the inauspicious premiere, the work quickly gained traction after the score was published 18 months later. An extraordinarily effusive review in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, the most important German-language music periodical, brought welcome attention to many of the symphony’s unique innovations, and by the end of the 19th century, the Fifth Symphony had already ascended to the throne as perhaps the most revered orchestral work ever composed.

The impetuous opening movement erupts like a tightly wound spring. Three forceful short notes lead to a dramatic long note, then the sequence is repeated. There is no genteel introduction, no easing the listener into the work. From the moment the conductor moves, the orchestral energy is released, and there is no turning back. This four-note rhythm serves as the overarching “theme” of the entire movement. This is what made the music so unique—rather than composing a melody and using that as the glue that binds the music together, Beethoven uses a simple rhythm. Only a composer as gifted as Beethoven could manage to create something so powerful out of something so simple. As the movement progresses, there are snippets of melodies that emerge, but underpinning everything is the same four-note rhythm. It is always there, lurking in the background before reemerging center stage. There is a frequently cited anecdote wherein Beethoven supposedly told a friend that the rhythm represented “fate knocking at the door.” While the idea of Beethoven writing a movement about fate while simultaneously wrestling with his worsening hearing loss can be appealing from an emotional perspective, modern music historians have come to question whether Beethoven ever actually said anything of the kind. We know that the four-note rhythm had preoccupied him for a while, and there are other stories about it having been inspired by a bird call he heard on one of his long walks in nature. Whether it is fate, or a bird, or just a rhythmic “ear worm” that he couldn’t shake, the compact movement (the shortest first movement of any of his symphonies) is a marvel of creativity.

The second movement opens with the cello section offering a sweet song. After the rhythmic intensity of the first movement, we are reminded that Beethoven could also write beautiful melodies. A second gentle tune in the woodwinds follows. In typical Beethoven fashion, however, this woodwind melody is suddenly interrupted by a brash march featuring trumpets and timpani. The movement vacillates between variations on these two tunes, with Beethoven flexing his melodic muscles before bringing the movement to an emphatic close.

The third movement scherzo opens mysteriously, the low strings playing the first part of a melody that the upper strings and woodwinds then finish. Anyone wondering what is coming next doesn’t have to wait long, as the horn section forcefully announces the main theme of the movement—another four-note motif. This time the four notes form the foundation for a swaggering melody that builds in intensity. In the middle of the movement, Beethoven injects a pompous fugue into the mix, beginning in the low strings and rapidly spreading through the entire orchestra. The mysterious opening music returns, followed by a barely audible, swagger-less reprise of the four-note melody, arriving at perhaps the most innovative aspect of the entire symphony. Rather than simply ending the movement, Beethoven surprises us again by composing a mesmerizing bridge to connect the scherzo with the final movement. Hushed strings hover over the timpani, which repeats the four-note rhythm over and over. The tension is palpable as the music slowly increases in intensity and volume before suddenly surging into the glorious final movement.

The effect is nothing short of spectacular as the brass announce the triumphant main theme of the last movement. It is clear that we have emerged from darkness to light, or from struggle to victory—the analogies are endless, but the feeling is the same. Elation. To give even more oomph to the orchestra, Beethoven adds three trombones into the mix, as well as a contrabassoon and a piccolo, adding depth and majesty at both ends of the sonic spectrum. Just when it seems that the celebration has reached its peak, everything suddenly screeches to a halt, and we hear the same four-note melody from the scherzo repeated, quietly and mysteriously, like a dim memory from the past. The diversion is brief, however, and the celebration resumes. The heroic conclusion features an unapologetic eight “final” notes, putting a dramatic exclamation point on this groundbreaking, historic, revolutionary, and decidedly “iconic” work of art.