Beethoven's struggle, triumph over deafness is theme of American Repertory Ballet world premiere

But what humiliation when any one beside me heard a flute in the far distance, while I heard nothing, or when others heard a shepherd singing, and I still heard nothing! Such things brought me to the verge of desperation, and well-nigh caused me to put an end to my life.

With these words, the composer Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) described the agony of the early stages of losing his hearing, the embarrassment he felt when his loss became evident in the presence of others. He was the greatest composer of his generation, perhaps of all time. And yet he could not hear “a shepherd singing” in the countryside.

This haunting statement is the basis of a new ballet by Mary Barton, ballet master and resident choreographer with the American Repertory Ballet (ARB), New Jersey’s leading professional ballet repertory company. A Shepherd Singing (And I Still Heard Nothing) received its world premiere April 8, 2016, in McCarter Theatre, Princeton, N.J. The drama in movement unfolded as Michael Pratt conducted the Princeton University Orchestra in a spirited performance of three movements of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. It was the concluding work on a program titled Masters of Dance and Music at McCarter.

The story of a composer going deaf is not the easiest thing to translate into the highly visual art of ballet. We imagine the clumsy Beethoven tripping over stacks of clutter in his dark, crowded apartment, not soaring in a grand jete or gracefully lifting a ballerina toward the sky. This is where our expectations are low, and Mary Barton’s vision pierces through to the soul of Beethoven, that hidden place which gave birth to such graceful expressions as the Moonlight Sonata and the profundity of the Ninth Symphony.

Barton’s interpretation begins with the sound of a fierce thunderstorm. The curtain lifts to the scene of Beethoven’s death bed against the first movement of the Seventh Symphony. This is not a scene of gloom and despair, but of defiance and resurrection as the spirits of Fate, Silence, and Art lift the composer to a realm of eternal understanding. 

The story recedes back to the time, in his late 20s and early-to-mid 30s, when Beethoven began to detect signs of increasing deafness and at last came face to face with the realization that he would lose his hearing. This was the time when he first imagined the Sixth Symphony, which contains musical scenes such as a bubbling brook, peasant dances, and bird songs that he no longer could hear and enjoy. In his early 40s came the Seventh Symphony which provides a matchless scaffold for the display of this tale of suffering, reconciliation through art, and ultimate triumph.

As the composer at the center of this narrative, Michael Landez is a powerful force, combining grace and strength, vulnerability and resilience. If your idea of Beethoven is a grouchy troll, think again: Landez has given him the physical presence worthy of the master who composed hundreds of masterworks and set an example for fortitude and overcoming adversity. If you never dreamed of Beethoven in tights, his feet fluttering in a batterie, then dream again: the entire production is so authentic and full of fervent feeling, there is no false step, nothing awkward or off-base. 

Barton has assigned several dancers the roles of notes, and it is pure pleasure to see them expressing the music being performed live just past their feet. (This is the first time ARB has performed with a live orchestra in its more than 40 year history.) The balletic notes really do seem as though they’ve risen like steam or mist out of the orchestral pit and materialized before us on the stage. Beautiful work by the University Orchestra, by the way, with the relentless momentum so necessary to a performance of the Seventh. These may not be the most polished professional musicians on the planet, but under Pratt, they never let up, and drive the music to its frenzied, ecstatic conclusion, a phenomenon Richard Wagner once called “the apotheosis of the dance.” This performance probably sounded more like authentic performances in Beethoven's own time.

Many have danced to the Seventh, but not like this. Thank you, ARB, artistic director Douglas Martin, and the many other brilliant dancers who helped tell the story of a great composer who triumphed over affliction. Beethoven’s music may be remembered as his legacy to the human race, but his life and struggles, too, as memorialized in this ballet, show us a path of salvation through art. 

Reflections on other ballets in the April 8th program will be featured in a future column.

                                                                                                 –Linda  Brown Holt

Cast photo after world premiere of Mary Barton's A Shepherd Singing (And I Still Heard Nothing). Photo by ARB dancer Lily Saito