A Short Introduction to My Favorite Composer

I have been playing piano since childhood and have had the privilege of studying with wonderful instructors for most of that time. A few years ago, I decided I would learn all 32 of Beethoven's piano sonatas. For those unfamiliar with his works, this is a rather monumental task, especially for someone who is not a professional musician, and will likely take me the better part of my life. Beethoven's piano sonatas are considered among the greatest works ever composed for the instrument and are likely the most-studied and most-recorded pieces as well. They are held in such high regard because they cover a huge range of musical and emotional territory, yet the writing remains consistently splendid from the first to the last. In my opinion, all but a handful are great, and several of them I consider absolute gems.

Now you might think I am simply jumping on the Beethoven train, since he is the most celebrated composer of our time. Indeed, I adore his piano sonatas, but I don't believe they are necessarily better than comparable works of other great composers (for example, piano sonatas by Schubert or Prokofiev). Instead, my penchant for the composer is born from intrigue with his personal experiences. Beethoven experienced particularly poignant pains during different periods of his life. And while he struggled to ever find any peace within the world, he managed to illuminate many aspects of his life through music, and in doing so, speak allegorically of the human condition. In this sense, he was the first true Romantic composer, by using music to delve more boldly and deeply into humanity than anyone before him.

My own identification with Beethoven came with the discovery of his late piano sonatas and late string quartets. By the time he composed these works, Beethoven had already been deaf for roughly two decades. These works were the culmination of years of turmoil, despair, and hopelessness followed by gradual acceptance, gratitude, and embrace. Towards the end of his life, I would like to think that he finally came to terms with his own deafness, finally embraced the opportunity to give something wonderful to the world from a position of weakness. I can only conjecture how he truly felt, but his music suggested a transcendent maturation of one who had surfaced from the darkest depths of life.

Beethoven was raised under the watch of a strict alcoholic father who beat the child regularly and forced him to practice for unreasonable lengths of time. This probably contributed to his developing paranoia and irateness with everyone around him. Beethoven grew up to be somewhat crazy and extremely difficult to get along with, both with strangers and with those who knew him. In particular, he struggled immensely to find love, both romantically and within his own family, and went through a nasty custody battle over his nephew when his brother passed that interfered with his musical output. However, his most defining battle undoubtedly came against the onset of deafness.

Throughout his late teens and twenties, Beethoven had gradually made a name for himself as a budding virtuoso with incredible improvisation skills. During this time, he studied under Haydn and composed a great number of works in the Classical style, many of which went unpublished. What I find interesting is that compared to Mozart and Schubert, who had both composed incredibly mature works before the age of 30, Beethoven's early output was more tempered. While still sophisticated, his early music was largely playful and followed traditional styles. There are some notable exceptions, such as the Cantata for the Death of Joseph II, composed when Beethoven was 19, which contains emotional depth resembling that of music from much later.

It is hard to say how Beethoven would have developed as a composer had his hearing not started to fade. He remained extremely prolific into his early thirties, as he wrestled with his encroaching deafness and the quick evaporation of his own performance aspirations. His music took a turn during this time -- some of his works were noticeably more tumultuous and somber than earlier. At the same time, Beethoven began to take more and more liberties with musical structure, often breaking away from traditional approaches. This aspect of his music, I believe, would have occurred inexorably as a result of his increasing freedom (he was the first notable composer to not be employed by a court) and musical maturation.

One of the most interesting discoveries came following Beethoven's death in 1827 of a letter he wrote in 1802, now known as the Heiligenstadt Testament. It spoke of his emotional response to his deafness: the initial embarrassment, the ensuing frustration, and ultimately the overwhelming sense of isolation, as he no longer believed he could operate normally within society. In the letter, he briefly mentioned ending his own life but decided that his "art" was too valuable to not pursue further. Here, his pride, which caused him much despair, ultimately spurned him to continue pushing onward as a composer.

This testament was a watershed moment in the composer's life. By putting down in ink the rationale for his decisions, which he intended to be read after his death, Beethoven embarked on the gradual process of allowing his own physical and emotional well-being to play second fiddle to his quest to create music. He recognized his supreme musical gifts and decided at that moment that he would endure all hardships for the sake of using those gifts. As music truly became the reason for his existence, he poured increasing amounts of personal emotion into his compositions, which became a primary means of communication with the outside world, a world that could not relate to his troubles.

The last two decades of Beethoven's life yielded some of the most inspired music we have ever heard. Slowly his writing became more complex, more innovative, and more introspective. Among his greatest compositions exist the common themes of resolution and triumph. For example, the last movement of his final piano sonata elicits images of innocence, turmoil, desolation, loneliness, yearning, and tranquility, corresponding to Beethoven's own life trajectory. The piece concludes with the simplest and purest cadence, a sigh from the composer that speaks of his own acceptance of his life. Beethoven has won the war because he has come to terms with the things he cannot change.

What I love about this story is how an extraordinarily prideful and gifted man is humbled to the lowest point and then undergoes a journey to find peace, not through conquering his condition, but through reevaluating his identity. He must constantly grapple with not having what he wants in life, in a sense becoming a never-understood hero who suffers for the world. The music that spawns from such struggles reflects upon the innermost depths of his soul and invites audiences everywhere to experience that transcendence as well. Ironically, one person who will never hear performances of such wondrous music is the composer himself. But Beethoven resigns himself to this fact, and in doing so, lets us know that choices are more important than gifts.

Our Inner Demons

A framework to address turmoil

As I’ve dealt with inner turmoil, I’ve poured through many articles and stories of how others approach their struggles. This post is largely shaped by the opinions I have gathered, and I apologize that I will not be citing where I first discovered many of the ensuing ideas.

What causes the most discord in my life? Why do I sometimes lack motivation, hope or joy? Recently I realized that instead of just pinpointing what my struggles are, I need to understand how they take effect and operate. In essence, our innermost demons work through a discrepancy between our reality and expectations.

Expectations are formed through years of experiences and exposure to stimuli. Influences from family and friends, messages from the media, and self-developed ambitions all help shape what we expect from life. For example, growing up we often hear about the glory of the American Dream (apparently, this is also the Chinese Dream because my parents told me the same thing). Over time, we may come to expect to live in a cozy two-story house with a loving family and a stable job. After continued exposure, this idea becomes an expectation and subconsciously, even a desire. The more it gets reinforced, the stronger the expectation becomes and the more difficult it is to challenge.

Unfortunately, life does not always follow our expectations, and sometimes not due to a fault of our own. If we suddenly find ourselves unable to live the American Dream for some reason, and not just at this moment but indefinitely, then our entire identity gets challenged. We are sad in the present because life is not what we want it to be. Moreover, we feel pessimistic about the future because life may never be what we want it to be. Travelling down this train of thought can lead to feelings of despair and hopelessness, depending on how important the expectation is.

How do we to mend this wound in our identity? Besides denial, we might simply choose to ignore the issue completely and focus on other, more merry aspects of life. Again, depending on how dear the issue is to us, this tactic may not work very well. Imagine working your whole life towards a goal, perhaps as an aspiring athlete or artist. In an accident you suffer an injury that effectively ends your career. How do you reconcile this new condition preventing you from fulfilling your lifelong dream? Can you simply ignore the fact that everything you worked for has come to an end?

We all have to deal with unfulfillable expectations at some point in our lives. I think one way to handle a crushed dream is to simply let it go, but this is a lot easier said than done. When an idea becomes ingrained in our minds, not only do we have to undo years of habitual thinking, but we also have to fend off the external pressures that continue to fuel the idea. How difficult must it be to come to terms with not being able to see again, or not being able to have kids, or only having a few months left to live? Especially when all around we see others live the type of life we want, or others continue to demand from us the one thing we can no longer achieve.

Shedding our old expectations in order to form new ones can be among our most difficult yet transformative experiences. So how do we let go? First, accept what we cannot change and do not allow ourselves to ruminate on the past. Second, imagine a joyous and fulfilling life with the new expectations. Eventually they’ll come to form our new sense of identity, one that matches our reality. 

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Expectations matter a lot because they help shape our outlook on life and thus our happiness. Failure to meet high expectations can lead to disappointment and fulfillment of modest but genuine expectations can bring joy. However, a warning should be made against artificially setting a low bar. Studies show that optimism in general brings many benefits whereas constant negativity or self-deprecation has many drawbacks. I won’t go into details here, but generally optimism is correlated with higher levels of resiliency and happiness.

So how do we separate the good optimistic expectations from the unfulfillable life-draining ones? At times it’s obvious, but sometimes the line is not clear-cut. Studies show that most people tend to overestimate their own situation, and thus most expectations are based as much on imagination as reality. Furthermore, we see examples of visionaries refuse to waiver from their goal to eventually accomplish the seemingly impossible. But, for each success there are many more who fall short.

Perhaps one useful metric to examine is how our expectations affect us. Do they motivate, inspire, and energize us to face our challenges? Do they provide a sense of purpose and pride with each new achievement? Or do they sap our energy, cause us to regret our past, dread our future, or even hate ourselves? At that point it may be time to let go.

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This is a great talk on how happiness can emerge through uncontrollable circumstances: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4q1dgn_C0AU

The One Thing I Wish I Knew Growing Up

How to talk to girls. Wait, I still don't.

My parents grew up among the masses in China during the Cultural Revolution. After Mao died in 1976, they were part of the first wave of high school students nationwide attempting to enter colleges and universities, which had just opened their doors again. At this time, getting into college was an extremely competitive task, and the vast majority of students ended up finding a job instead. My parents were fortunate and hard-working enough to excel in their studies, attend good schools, and launch their careers off the back of a solid education. My dad eventually found his way to the United States for graduate studies, for which I am particularly grateful because I probably would not have been born otherwise (due to China's one-child policy).

As a kid, I grew up in Georgia and often heard my mother recount stories of their previous lives in China. I knew they grew up under meager living conditions, I knew they studied hard, I knew they ventured to America with no money but high hopes that my brother and I would have better lives. Although this is not an atypical immigrant story, it strongly shaped my identity in my early years, particularly because I stood out from my friends. However, there is one thing my mother told me on numerous occasions that I wish she had not ... that I was smart.

I can rationalize why my mother told me this. She wanted me to do well in school. From her personal experience, education held the key to social mobility. Perhaps a part of her was proud as well. She gave up a comfortable life in China mostly for my sake. She had to start over in a completely foreign environment, but if I succeeded, then it might all be worth it.

Over time I began to believe that I was indeed a smart child. I generally did well in school, especially in math, and I began to subconsciously seek out ways to affirm my belief. This involved avoiding any thoughts that would challenge this notion. For example, when I did less than stellar on an assignment, I would try to sweep it under the rug, perhaps by hiding it from my parents and myself. Even as a child, any failure at school would cause increasing amounts of anxiety as a threat to my self-image. A bad grade meant that I wasn't good enough, both in my eyes and in my mother's eyes (or so I thought), and no child wants to deal with that.

In middle school I competed extensively in math competitions and achieved some success. This made me quite happy but also had the terrible effect of feeding my huge ego. Looking back, I was probably not very fun to be around. I can recall many instances in which I was a huge -------. Anyway, I was fortunate enough to take part in an excellent math program led by a phenomenal coach. Learning math and attending competitions was fun and easy because most of my friends did it.

High school was an entirely different story. Academic pursuits outside of school required self-motivation, and while I still attended various events, I never found nearly as much success as before. Was this because I lacked the tools or resources to succeed, or that I suddenly got dumber? In retrospect, I am pretty sure the answer lies in my mindset. Throughout my life, I avoided failure and thus never learned to persevere through adversity. When faced with more challenging academic pursuits, I simply avoided giving my all for fear of failure.

Now, many years later, I finally understand this phenomena. Research has shown that when kids are told they are good at something (static attribute), they try to confirm their beliefs and tend to get discouraged when they fail. On the other hand, when kids are complimented on their effort, they are much more eager to improve after a poor showing. The first twenty years of my life could be summed up neatly by this study.

The older I get, the more I believe in the power of a growth mindset. I believe that most people are capable of accomplishing most tasks, as long as they have the right mentality. A couple of months ago, I was talking to a student from China about the music we listen to. The conversation moved to Michael Jackson, and he expressed amazement over MJ's dancing ability with, "I could never do that!" Immediately, I realized this singular focus on talent and natural-born ability, not unlike my mom's emphasis on intelligence. Michael Jackson was no doubt a talented performer, but he also spent thousands of hours perfecting his dance moves. In fact, his dancing noticeably improved from his earliest performances to his later ones.

I try very hard now to embrace opportunities to learn new skills or tasks. I enjoy picking up new hobbies, such as cooking or writing, because I have no expectations to live in fear of. Everything awful I produce (which is a lot of stuff) is a learning opportunity for future improvement. Not only that, but the growth mindset can be applied to character-building as well. We all know how remarkably difficult it is to change our behavioral habits. But instead of dwelling on our shortcomings, we should adopt the mindset of a novice trying to learn something new for the first time. For example, I am shy and do not particularly excel at striking up conversation with strangers. I also know that interacting with others is an important skill for life. What does this mean for networking events? Go in with a positive attitude, expect to sound dumb here and there, learn something for next time, and don't worry about how others perceive me. Each event is a personal quest to get better.

It's not easy to change the views I've held for most of my life, and I do find myself reverting back to stubbornness and arrogance quite often. Sometimes I wish I had learned the importance of the growth mindset at a young age, but on the other hand, coming to this realization on my own makes it so much more poignant and powerful in shaping my identity. Along the way, I had the pleasure of listening to a particularly helpful graduation speech that I will now leave you with (skip to 6:25):

What Motivates Us?

Application of Intrinsic Motivation

Whether we realize it or not, our actions are often driven by underlying motivations. Sometimes we are very purposeful in our intent - for example, we might choose to stay late after work every day in hopes of getting a promotion. Other times, we are a lot less conscious of our motivations. Why do we get drunk at parties just to feel terrible the next day?

Understanding our personal motivation can provide a useful perspective to help us make decisions in life. Of course, for our day-to-day activities, consciously analyzing every decision may not be the best use of our time. But, I think that making an active effort to evaluate how we spend our time with regard to our motivations can bring insight into our own character and provide guidance that will allow us to live more meaningfully.

Psychologists generally divide motivation into two broad types - intrinsic and extrinsic. Extrinsic motivation constitutes any type of reward separate from the activity that motivates us to take a particular action. For example, we work hard to make money, or we study hard to earn good grades. Intrinsic motivation, on the other hand, refers to the intrinsic happiness we derive from a particular activity. For example, bookworms voraciously devour novels primarily because they enjoy reading, not so that they can impress their friends with how much they read, although that could be a secondary reason. The distinction between the two types of motivation can be a little fuzzy, and indeed, some experts even contend with the validity of the framework. For the purposes of this post, I will assume this framework to be approximately true.

So, what are the differences between the two types of motivation? Well, research has shown that extrinsic motivation can be a useful incentive for enabling efficient execution of routine or mechanical work but serves to hinder work that requires creativity or high-level thinking, whereas intrinsic motivation unlocks creativity and high-level thinking. Extrinsic motivation, when applied to an activity, will also lower latent intrinsic motivation over time. For example, suppose that you enjoy volunteering at homeless shelters on weekends because of your desire to help the poor. Well, if suddenly I introduce a monetary reward every time you go, over time your intrinsic motivation will begin to decline. Eventually you may frequent the homeless shelter less and less as your intrinsic motivation wanes. Furthermore, if the extrinsic motivation is then removed, you may lose all desire for the activity outright.

All findings seem to indicate that intrinsic motivation has a more powerful and permanent effect than does extrinsic motivation. But what does this tell us about how to live our lives? Should we try to maximize our time spent on intrinsically-motivated activities? How do we reconcile earning a decent wage with doing what we love? Indeed, this has been the classic artist dilemma since the beginning of time. Pragmatism and passion don't often intertwine.

I would be lying if I pretended to have any of the answers. For now, I will focus on an application of motivation theory that I personally find useful: how do we deal with what others think of us? People display a wide range of behaviors regarding this issue. Some live to please others, whereas others completely disregard how they are perceived. I'm here to offer a different point of view. Instead of worrying about whether we're liked, let's take a step back and ask ourselves why. What is our motivation for trying to make a good impression? Is it to fit in, to be well-liked, or perhaps to appear better than we actually are? More importantly, why do we want others to think highly of us? Will that make us happier in the long run than if we live for another purpose?

I contend that when we predominantly focus on how others perceive us, we are being driven by extrinsic motivation. This in itself is not necessarily a condemnable stance, but it begs the question of whether we are living in accordance with our true selves. By seeking to impress others, we may inadvertently compromise our identity, beliefs, or core values. And the long-term result of such compromise, as suggested by motivation research, is an underlying shift in our internal compass, or intrinsic motivation. The values we hold most dear change over time if we constantly succumb to a hostile environment.

What is the opposite side of the coin? Focus our decisions on how they line up with our core values. What character traits do we most want to exemplify? What are our goals in life, both in the context of the immediate task and in terms of what type of person we would like to be? Most of us have heard of the classic advice to treat others as we would like to be treated. Although this may suggest some notion of reciprocity, thinking in such terms can lead to a critical lapse in understanding. What this is really saying  is that we should treat others in the way we believe to be most consistent with our personal values, since that is how we would most want to be treated. It does NOT mean that we should treat others expecting the same in return, although that could very well be a consequence. Actions for the sake of reciprocity by definition represent extrinsic motivation that will not provide us with the deeper-level fulfillment we get from intrinsically-motivated actions.

This is not to say that fulfilling our core values cannot align with trying to please others. Every situation is different, and we should always use our judgment when appropriate. I merely emphasize a shift in approach. Rather than just focusing on how much we're liked and how our actions might affect others, we should start by examining how our actions affect ourselves. Are they consistent with our core values and beliefs, or do they create a chasm in our identity? Once we mull this over, we then evaluate how a decision might affect others. In particular, is there a significant disconnect between fulfilling our own values and pleasing others? If so, is this because we have character flaws we need to work on? Or is it time to relocate to a new environment and find new friends?