The First Impression

When I was a child—probably around seven years old—I began learning the piano at an academy. There, I was introduced to simplified versions of famous pieces from around the world, learning basic notes like do, re, mi.

One day, I learned about sharps for the first time and tried playing a melody. The sequence of notes was as follows:

Mi Mi Fa Sol / Sol Fa Mi Re / Do Do Re Mi / Mi Re Re

Mi Mi Fa Sol / Sol Fa Mi Re / Do Do Re Mi / Re Do Do

Re Re Mi Do / Re Fa Mi Do / Re Fa Mi Re / Do Re Mi#

Mi Mi Fa Sol / Sol Fa Mi Re / Do Do Re Mi / Re Do Do

Even at that young age, the melody felt profoundly beautiful.Its beauty was so deep that it made me feel sad.So I took my pencil and wrote a single word on the sheet music:

“Sadness.”

That was my very first emotional encounter with a piece by Beethoven.

Afterward, I listened to many classical works. Eventually, I discovered that the melody I had found so beautiful was actually the theme of the Ninth Symphony—the “Choral” Symphony—and that its composer was Beethoven.

Beethoven was already famous to me as the composer of the C minor Symphony No. 5, expressing human fate through its iconic motif—three short notes and one long note: da-da-da-daa. Yet I could not help but marvel that the final symphony of such a composer contained a melody of such transcendent beauty. Beethoven’s music felt dark and sorrowful, yet at the same time powerful and profoundly beautiful.

As I continued exploring his works, there came a defining moment that made me recognize Beethoven as the greatest maestro. It was when I watched the biographical film Immortal Beloved, directed by Bernard Rose and starring Gary Oldman.

Since then, for over thirty years, I have lived with Beethoven’s music—embracing a life filled with emotions that are beautifully, almost painfully, profound.

Around my thirties, I learned that Beethoven composed the Ninth Symphony in his early fifties. Realizing that even his other works often felt overwhelming for me to fully absorb, I decided that the Ninth Symphony would be something I would only listen to in full after I turned fifty. Aside from briefly hearing fragments during my school years and later in life, I have still not listened to the complete work.

What remains with me are only fragments of memory and emotion:the melody I first encountered as a child at the piano, and the scene in Immortal Beloved where the aging Beethoven (portrayed by Gary Oldman), with his nephew—like a son—by his side, hoarsely sings, “da-da-da-da (Mi Mi Fa Sol), da-da-da-da (Sol Fa Mi Re).”

These are the entirety of my memories, impressions, and emotions connected to the “Choral” Symphony.

Having spent a lifetime finding joy in Beethoven’s music, the thought that I may finally listen to the Ninth Symphony in its entirety—especially as we approach the 200th anniversary of his death—fills me with an even deeper, almost aching sense of beauty.

I have always admired conductors such as Carlos Kleiber, Karl Böhm, and Sir Georg Solti, and I would love to hear the Ninth Symphony under their direction. Still, I am equally excited to discover what other recommendations fellow Beethoven enthusiasts might share.

And as I sit at the piano, I gently press the keys once more:

Mi Mi Fa Sol / Sol Fa Mi Re / Do Do Re Mi / Mi Re Re

Mi Mi Fa Sol / Sol Fa Mi Re / Do Do Re Mi / Re Do Do…