18 June 2025
Pia Bernauer
Weekly SpinOn: The Age of Enlightenment

What does the Enlightenment sound like?
The Enlightenment — or Age of Reason — was a period in the 17th and 18th centuries marked by a profound shift in how people understood the world. Thinkers like Voltaire, Kant, and Hume challenged tradition and authority, promoting reason, science, education, and individual freedom. These ideals shaped not only philosophy and politics, but also art and music. Composers like Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven reflected this spirit in works that value structure, clarity, and the unfolding of ideas — music that invites thought as much as emotion.
This playlist brings together pieces that embody that intellectual and emotional landscape. From the symbolic wisdom of Die Zauberflöte to the explosive questioning of Beethoven’s Ninth, and ending with Bernstein’s witty take on Voltaire in Candide, the selections trace a path through sound toward the values that still shape modern life: curiosity, rationality, and the belief that light — and knowledge — belongs to everyone.
Track 1: Also sprach Zarathustra, I. Prelude. Sonnenaufgang – Richard Strauss
The first track in this playlist begins with a sunrise — not of a day, but of thought. Richard Strauss’s *Also sprach Zarathustra*, composed in 1896 and inspired by Friedrich Nietzsche’s philosophical text of the same name, opens with one of the most iconic moments in orchestral music: a low, sustained C, a rising brass fanfare, and sweeping strings that evoke the emergence of light from darkness. The music does not follow a conventional narrative but traces a symbolic journey — from instinct to reason, from chaos to order — echoing the central themes of both the Enlightenment and Nietzsche’s vision of human transformation.
The Enlightenment, or Age of Reason, was an intellectual movement that defined much of European thought in the 17th and 18th centuries. It emphasized the power of rational inquiry, empirical science, individual freedom, and skepticism toward religious and political authority. Thinkers like Kant, Voltaire, and Hume believed that through education and reason, human beings could shape a more just, open, and progressive society. At its core, the Enlightenment was a call to think for oneself — to step out of inherited darkness into self-chosen understanding.
Strauss’s music, though written a century later, continues this trajectory — but Nietzsche’s role adds complexity. In Also sprach Zarathustra, Nietzsche presents not a defense of Enlightenment rationalism, but a philosophical evolution beyond it. His Zarathustra is a figure who challenges moral absolutes and envisions the “Übermensch” — a new kind of human being who creates meaning through will and self-overcoming, not inherited values. In this sense, the piece Strauss composed — and especially its “Sunrise” — bridges two eras: the Enlightenment’s faith in progress and reason, and Nietzsche’s provocative call for radical personal transformation. The light that breaks over the horizon at the start of the piece can be heard as both — the dawning of reason, and the first glimpse of something that might come after it.

Stanley Kubrick, GB, 1968
The version included here is the 1959 recording by the Vienna Philharmonic under Herbert von Karajan, released by Decca. This exact performance was used by Stanley Kubrick in the opening of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Originally, the film was to feature an original score by Alex North, but Kubrick ultimately chose to replace it with pre-existing classical recordings. Karajan’s Zarathustra, with its clarity and weight, became the sonic gateway to a film about evolution, consciousness, and the unknown. Its place in cinema is iconic, but its philosophical resonance is what makes it the ideal beginning for this playlist — a musical sunrise that points not only backward to the Enlightenment, but forward to what might lie beyond it.
Track 2: Symphony No. 104 „London“, IV. Finale – Joseph Haydn
Track 2 in this playlist shifts from the cosmic scale of Strauss to the architectural clarity of Joseph Haydn. His Symphony No. 104 in D major, known as the “London” Symphony, was the last he ever composed — the culmination of a lifetime spent shaping and refining the symphonic form. The final movement, chosen here, opens with a quiet, almost hesitant introduction before launching into a bright, rhythmic theme grounded in folk-like energy. It’s a piece that radiates optimism, balance, and wit — qualities that are not only central to Haydn’s style but to the Enlightenment itself.
Haydn lived at the heart of the Enlightenment world. He worked for much of his career in the courtly system but was also deeply aware of the changing social and intellectual climate around him. By the time he composed the “London” symphonies in the 1790s, Europe was in flux: revolutions had shaken France and America, and Enlightenment ideals were being tested in the real world. Yet Haydn’s music never turns bitter or bombastic. Instead, it seeks structure, beauty, and coherence — not as escapism, but as a kind of musical reason.
The finale of the 104th Symphony, with its dance-like drive and elegantly unfolding development, shows how musical form can reflect Enlightenment values. It is rigorous without being rigid, inventive without abandoning clarity. Themes return and evolve; nothing is wasted. The listener is not overwhelmed but drawn into a process that rewards attention and thought — much like Enlightenment philosophy itself.
This recording, conducted by Herbert von Karajan with the Vienna Philharmonic, brings out the inner logic of the music with remarkable precision. Karajan is more often associated with the dramatic weight of the Romantic repertoire, but here his attention to balance and phrasing highlights Haydn’s genius for order.
Track 3: Die Zauberflöte, In diesen heil’gen Hallen – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Track 3 leads into the world of opera — but not just any opera. Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is one of the most symbolically charged and philosophically ambitious stage works of the Enlightenment era. The aria chosen here, “In diesen heil’gen Hallen”, is sung by the high priest Sarastro, a character who represents wisdom, order, and reason. In the context of the opera, it is a moment of calm and gravity: Sarastro assures the young hero that in the temple of knowledge, vengeance has no place, and only forgiveness reigns. The music is noble, serene, and deeply human — and it gives voice to the moral ideals of the Enlightenment more clearly than perhaps any other moment in Mozart’s operatic writing.
Die Zauberflöte, premiered in 1791, is far more than a fairy tale. Behind its fantasy surface lies a dense web of Enlightenment thought, Masonic symbolism, and humanist values. The characters are tested, not through violence but through silence, endurance, and truth-seeking. The opera praises reason, brotherhood, the power of music, and the transformative force of education. It calls for a society governed not by inherited power or superstition, but by merit and virtue. In Sarastro’s realm, wisdom is hard-won, but it is shared freely, and truth is always linked with light.
The recording selected here — featuring Herbert von Karajan conducting the Berlin Philharmonic — carries an added layer of significance. The Zauberflöte Overture was the very first piece Karajan ever recorded, back in 1938, at the age of 30. That recording launched his long and pioneering career as a recording artist, a path he pursued with unmatched dedication. Karajan wasn’t just a conductor of concerts — he was one of the first musicians to understand the full creative potential of recorded sound. Throughout his life, he pushed the limits of technology, from mono to stereo to digital audio, always seeking new ways to refine how music was heard and remembered. That his career began with The Magic Flute feels entirely fitting: an opera about initiation, transformation, and the power of knowledge, interpreted by a conductor who made it his mission to capture and preserve music in its clearest light.
The aria in this recording is performed by José van Dam, the Belgian bass-baritone known for the warmth and depth of his tone as well as his calm, grounded stage presence — qualities that made him an ideal interpreter of Sarastro. Van Dam had a close artistic relationship with Karajan, who admired not only his voice but his musical intelligence and restraint. Karajan invited him to sing in numerous projects during the 1970s and 80s, including major roles in Don Giovanni, Pelléas et Mélisande, and Fidelio. Their collaborations were marked by mutual respect and a shared understanding of musical balance — qualities that shine clearly in this performance. Van Dam’s Sarastro is not a figure of distant authority, but a human voice of reason — measured, compassionate, and quietly firm.

Karajan (back view, as silhouette) with Hildegard Behrens as Leonore and José van Dam as Rocco, rehearsals for Fidelio 1978, Salzburg, ©Siegfried Lauterwasser, Karajan-Archive
Track 4: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor „Choral“, II. Scherzo – Ludwig van Beethoven
Track 4 turns to one of the most iconic works of Western music: Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125 by Ludwig van Beethoven. Rather than the famous choral finale with its triumphant “Ode to Joy”, this playlist features the second movement — the Scherzo Rhythmic, driving, and full of sudden turns, it shows Beethoven at his most dynamic and unpredictable. The music has an almost compulsive energy: it pushes forward, pauses, rethinks, and surges ahead again. Even without words, this movement conveys something essential about Enlightenment thinking — not just celebration, but questioning; not stability, but the restless pursuit of something new.
Beethoven’s Ninth is often heard as a symbol of universal brotherhood — especially in its final movement, which sets Friedrich Schiller’s poem to music. But the symphony as a whole reflects a deeper transformation. Written between 1822 and 1824, it stands at the crossroads between the Classical and Romantic worlds. By the time he composed it, Beethoven was completely deaf. Yet the ideas he communicates — freedom, equality, reason, and idealism — are audible in every phrase. The second movement, in particular, strips away decoration and goes straight to structure: fugal writing, sharp articulation, and a near-obsessive focus on rhythm. It’s Enlightenment thought made music — not decorative, but rigorous and unafraid of contradiction.
The recording featured here is from 1962, part of Herbert von Karajan’s first complete Beethoven symphony cycle with the Berlin Philharmonic, released by Deutsche Grammophon. It followed an earlier cycle he had recorded in the 1950s with the Philharmonia Orchestra, and marked the beginning of a lifelong engagement: Karajan would go on to re-record all nine Beethoven symphonies twice more in the 1970s and 1980s. Among these, the 1962 cycle remains the most direct and lean — driven by clarity of structure and interpretive discipline. In the Scherzo, Karajan maintains tight control over tempo and articulation, letting the form speak for itself. The result is a performance that mirrors the Enlightenment ideal: music as reason in motion.
Bonustrack: Candide, Overture – Leonard Bernstein
As a bonus track, I chose to include Leonard Bernstein’s overture to Candide — the only piece in this playlist not conducted by Herbert von Karajan, and also the only one composed in the 20th century. Written in 1956, this brilliant concert overture is entirely Bernstein’s own creation: quick-witted, effervescent, and unmistakably modern in its tone and texture. Though stylistically distinct from the other works in this program, its intellectual lineage leads directly back to the Enlightenment — through the figure of Voltaire, on whose satirical novella the operetta is based.

Illustration for Chapter 9 of “Candide”, 1787
Voltaire’s Candide, first published in 1759, is a biting critique of philosophical optimism — particularly the idea that “all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds.” In the story, the naïve protagonist is forced to confront a world of absurdity, cruelty, and contradiction, gradually shedding inherited illusions in favor of pragmatic understanding. Beneath its humor lies a serious message: that truth is not given, but earned — and that belief must be tested by reality. These are core values of the Enlightenment: skepticism, clarity, and the courage to think independently.
Bernstein’s music reflects that same balance of wit and substance. The overture is dazzling on the surface — fast-paced, rhythmically sharp, and full of bold orchestral color — but underpinned by formal intelligence and craftsmanship. It’s a celebration of reason disguised as a joke, or perhaps a joke so well structured that it becomes something more. Bernstein, who both composed and conducted this recording, was himself a passionate educator and public intellectual. In Candide, he found a perfect outlet for his admiration of Enlightenment thought: music that entertains while it challenges, that laughs but never forgets to think.
Ending the playlist with this work adds a final perspective — lighter in sound, but deeply rooted in the same tradition. It reminds us that the legacy of the Enlightenment is not only in great systems and symphonies, but also in the right to question, to doubt, and to do so with wit and joy.
— Pia Bernauer (Karajan Institute, Salzburg)