Vincent Bijlo
Cabaret performer, writer, speaker
He hears what we do not hear
he thinks music, he sets the tones
with the ears inside his head.
And when the tones become notes
We hear what he does not hear.
But he knows the music
Because he is the music
He knows the sound of timpani and cymbals,
Of baritone, alto, tenor
The sopranos sing, high and clear
That alle Menschen Brüder werden
He sees their Ode to Joy
He sees the applause, he sees the cheers
His despair, his anger and his joy
They are given words, they are heard.
Corrie Tijsseling
Philosophical and historical educator, senior researcher at Kentalis, founder of the Netherlands Deaf Archive
He wears a gruff expression, the corners of his mouth turned down. No wonder, you might think: the poor man was a musician who lost his hearing over the course of his life. The term hearing loss certainly applies to Beethoven. He lost his hearing, and with it the meaning of life. The same cannot be said of people who are born deaf or become deaf at a young age. For them, sound has no or little value – you cannot lose something you never had, after all. That distinction can sometimes be difficult to grasp. Beethoven is to be pitied because he lost his hearing and could therefore no longer put his talent to use, but let us stop pitying those who have lost nothing. People who have been deaf from an early age deserve to have their talents recognised, rather than having their supposed ‘hearing loss’ be the only thing we see.
Jan Pelsdonk
Curator of Numismatic collections
This plaquette featuring a portrait of the famous composer and conductor Ludwig van Beethoven was made by the Viennese sculptor and medallist Arnold Hartig (1878–1972). The head is vividly portrayed, with its characteristic wild hair.
Updating all the object descriptions for a collection of some 20,000 coins, medallions and plaquettes is a major challenge. This plaquette provides a good example of why that is the case.
Hartig was a prolific medallist. This medallic object was probably made at the Austrian Mint, where he worked. There is also an unsigned version of this Beethoven medal, dated 1927 because it marked the centenary of Beethoven’s death. However, the example in the Rijksmuseum bears the signature ‘ARNOLD HARTIG 1919’. In the collection records, the year has therefore since been amended to 1919. Why Hartig made the medal in 1919 is unknown. It may have been connected to Beethoven’s complete – and, for him, devastating – deafness around 1819, but there is no evidence to support this.
