[Notes made on the program during intermissions in Herr Professor Stephan Möller’s concert this past Tuesday night.]
Over & under Sonata No. 14 in C♯ minor, for Piano—called 'Moonlight'
I don't know why they chose to say “Moonlight” of this single one. All his work is moonlight; moonlight over dark, swift water.
Did the girl with whom he was in love hear this? Did her bones melt for him, liquefy and weave with the music he called forth and threaded with his longing, with her beauty? Or did she listen, and smile, and leave the tempest as untouched as she'd come?
Through Sonata No. 31 in A flat major, for Piano
Why is this not named?
Then again, what does one call a cry of pain and despair that holds radiance as a blackened chalice holds pure water?
Ad astra per aspera indeed, Herr Professor; through the thorns to the stars. But light cannot be unwoven from darkness. And some thorns leave wounds that can bloody even the light of the stars.
And after what star would one name this? No Latin, English, Greek word shines warmly enough, though the Persians have a name which might not disgrace such luminous suffering: Anwar i-Suhaili, Light of the Brightest of Stars.
How does a man craft such music from a ringing prison of silence?
How does he mix with a cry from the abyss the incandescence he can no longer see?