(MUSIC) The strange, complicated form of the Pathetique’s first movement is perfect for its mood of turmoil and nervosity; the second movement, by contrast, has an extremely settled, even predictable structure which only enhances the tranquility of the movement. The opening section that I played for you comes three times, with only cosmetic alterations. These three appearances are separated by two brief episodes, each of which provides contrast and brings a hint of darkness. Here is the first: (MUSIC) This now, obviously, is the second iteration of the theme, and it has become even more intimate, following that episode, with its suggestion of unrest. It's also enhanced by the really spectacularly beautiful way the return is prepared. Its power comes from the fact that the inner voice moves entirely chromatically, not diatonically. So, VERY brief theory lesson, I promise: the diatonic scale is the seven note scale that forms the basis of the major and minor modes. (MUSIC) That was eight notes, but the last is a reiteration of the first (MUSIC). The chromatic scale uses all twelve of the notes on the keyboard – the twelve notes in common use throughout the history of western music. (MUSIC) Now, since in the chromatic scale, it takes twelve notes to get from e flat to E-flat (MUSIC), rather than seven, as it is in the diatonic scale (MUSIC), obviously that means the notes are closer together. So chromatic writing tends to have a slightly gnarled quality, giving it a heightened intensity. If this return of the theme had been approached with diatonic motion (MUSIC), and excuse my hideous recomposition, it would be more easygoing. The actual, all-chromatic version (MUSIC), that heightens the stakes, and deepens the moment of return. The second episode is a bit stormier – it recollects the “sturm und drang” of the first movement without taking us too far away from the overall tenor of this movement. (MUSIC) This last, somewhat busier appearance of the opening material retains the episode’s accompanimental triplets (MUSIC). This is again a beautiful balancing act – it gives the music an added richness, without compromising its quiet. When the third appearance of the theme comes to an end, we get a very brief coda: (MUSIC) It is the simplicity of this that makes it so very touching. Beethoven was capable of – even drawn to – massive codas. For example, the slow movements of the trio opus 1 number 2 and the “Kreutzer” sonata for violin and piano have codas of proportions that completely alter the scope and shape of the movements themselves, taking them in directions one could not have predicted, listening to what precedes them. This coda is nothing like that – it features exactly zero gilding of the lily. Beethoven’s incredible mastery of form meant that he was responsible for innovation after innovation, but equally, it meant that he instinctively knew when to leave well enough alone.