Listening to Beethoven's Late Sonatas these days. by Pollini. Wonderful, indefinite stuff.

You can read here a testament he wrote to his brothers and two love letters by Beethoven.

Here is a quote from the testament:
"But what a humiliation for me when someone standing next to me heard a flute in the distance and I heard nothing, or someone standing next to me heard a shepherd singing and again I heard nothing. Such incidents drove me almost to despair; a little more of that and I would have ended my life. It was only my art that held me back. Oh, it seemed to me impossible to leave the world until I had forth all that I felt was within me. So I endured this wretched existence, truly wretched for so susceptible a body, which can be thrown by a sudden change from the best condition to the worst. Patience, they say, is what I must now choose for my guide, and I have done so - I hope my determination will remain firm to endure until it pleases the inexorable Parcae to break the thread. Perhaps I shall get better, perhaps not; I am ready. - Forced to become a philosopher already in my twenty-eight year, oh, it is not easy, and for the artist much more difficult than for anyone else."

Answer this one then:

- Why did Beethoven kill his chickens?
Because they wouldn't stop chanting "Bach, Bach, Bach!"

- How did Beethoven kill the chickens?
He baroque their necks!


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