The Stormy Seas of Beethoven's Appassionata
I. Allegro assai

Piano Sonata No. 23 in F minor, Op. 57 ("Appassionata")

Beethoven presenting a listen guide for his Appassionata's I. Allegro assai
I'm Beethoven, and I'm glad to sit with you while I explain the first movement of my Appassionata, the Allegro assai. You'll hear a hushed theme in F minor creep along in low octaves and slowly gather force, and then, near the end, a long coda where the music seems to improvise its way toward the final silence. Here on this site my fellow composers and I also teach you to recognize our pieces when you hear them, so when you're ready,  take the Trainer for a spin .
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One Piano, Many Personalities

Before you press play, here's the good news: there's only one instrument to follow, a solo piano, and no orchestra is hiding in the wings. Because the piano is on its own, it plays every role at once, so the left hand often supplies the low, rumbling floor while the right hand sings or scurries above it. Listen for the contrast between very quiet passages and sudden loud outbursts, because that tug-of-war is the heart of the movement's drama. If you ever lose your way, just ask yourself whether the music is holding its breath or letting it out, and you'll be right more often than you'd expect.

A Title That Is Mostly a Speed Limit

The title I gave this movement is simply Allegro assai, and it's a tempo marking, a note to the pianist rather than a poetic name. I chose it because it tells the player to move briskly, and the movement is written in F minor in 12/8 time, which gives that speed a rolling, restless swing. I didn't put a dramatic label on top, because I preferred to let the notes do the talking. It's a bit like a road sign that says only "fast" and leaves you to find out why once you've taken the first bend.

Choosing the Form: A Small Adventure

Choosing the form for this movement was an adventure in itself, and in the end I settled on sonata form, which works a little like a story told in four chapters. First comes the exposition, where I present the main themes, and then the development, where I take those themes apart and put them under pressure. After that the recapitulation brings the themes back home, and a coda rounds everything off at the end. I'll walk you through these four stops one at a time, so you have a map before we set off.

Section 1: Meet the Suspects

The exposition begins quietly with the main theme, and the Allegro assai pace means it already moves along in that rocking 12/8 pulse. Soon the hush turns into agitation, and the theme comes back louder and more insistent than before. Then a second theme arrives, more songlike and a little consoling, as if someone had opened a window in a stuffy room. Don't relax too much, though, because the restlessness of the opening is never far away.

Section 2: The Themes Go Through the Wringer

In the development I take the material from the exposition and push it through a series of changing keys, so the ground keeps shifting under your feet. Keep an ear out for the Neapolitan chord, which has a structural role in this movement and adds a darker color that bends the harmony in unexpected directions. The tempo stays the same, but the tension rises and falls as fragments of the themes are tossed back and forth. Think of it as the part of the story where the problems get properly tangled before anyone tries to sort them out.

Section 3: Back Home, but Not Quite the Same

The recapitulation brings back the opening theme, and you'll recognize it right away. After everything that happened in the development, though, it no longer sounds like the same quiet theme, because there's more weight behind it now. The songlike second theme returns as well, but the shadow over it feels darker than it did the first time. It's the same story told again, this time by someone who has lived through the middle of it.

Section 4: The Coda That Wouldn't Leave

The coda is unusually long, much longer than you might expect at the end of a movement like this. In it I write arpeggios that sound improvised, as if the pianist were making them up on the spot. The mood stays dark and the music keeps its urgency, so there's no gentle slide into comfort. When it finally stops, you're ready for the Andante con moto that follows.

Your Turn: The Play Button Awaits

Now it's your turn to hear the movement for yourself, so find a comfortable seat and press play. Let the music carry you along, and don't worry if you can't name every section as it goes by. Keep a few things from our walk in mind: the single piano, the quiet beginning, and that long, restless coda. I hope you find the journey through this movement as thrilling as I found writing it.
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I hope you enjoyed learning about the first movement of the Appassionata, the Allegro assai, and that the guide gave you a few new things to listen for. Now that you know how the music begins at the very bottom of the keyboard, I'd like you to hear that quiet opening again and notice how much grows out of it. There is still a lot more to explore in this sonata, because the Andante con moto and the finale have stories of their own to tell. The second movement, for instance, takes a very simple tune and slowly changes it, and then a single chord pushes us straight into the finale. I also think it's worth listening to how the whole piece ends, since it finishes in tragedy rather than triumph, and that says a lot about where the music has been heading all along. If you'd like to keep going, please click on the links provided and explore more of the Appassionata at your own pace. Take your time, listen as often as you like, and let the music show you something new on every visit.