Beethoven: The Nine Symphonies.
Renate Behle, soprano; Yvonne Naef, contralto; Glenn Winslade, tenor; Hanno Müller-Brachmann, bass; Rundfunkchor
Berlin and SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden und Freiburg conducted by Michael Gielen.
Hänssler Classic. $64.99 (5
CDs).
Beethoven: Der glorreiche
Augenblick; Choral Fantasia. Claire Rutter, soprano; Matilde Wallevik and
Marta Fontanals-Simmons, mezzo-sopranos; Peter Hoare and Julian Davis, tenors;
Stephen Gadd, baritone; Leon McCawley, piano; Westminster Boys’ Choir, City of
London Choir and Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Hilary Davan Wetton.
Naxos. $9.99.
There are so many fine
sets of Beethoven symphonies available that it is tempting to dismiss a new one
as, at best, unnecessary – especially when “new” is a matter of opinion:
Michael Gielen’s consists of performances from the years 1997-2000. And these are not original-instrument or
reduced-orchestra-size renditions or in any other way reflective of the trends
(some would call them fads) of Beethoven symphony performances today. Yet this is an exceptional cycle nonetheless,
because Gielen has studied these scores extremely closely, understands them
thoroughly, and has decided not only to take all the repeats (as other
conductors have done as well) but also to adhere closely to Beethoven’s own
metronome markings – which other conductors rarely do, the consensus of opinion
being that those indications are simply too fast. No, they are not – not as Gielen handles
them, with an orchestra capable of nuanced playing and excellent instrumental
detail even at speeds that are often somewhat surprising. Gielen’s Beethoven is not quite like any
other conductor’s, and listeners expecting just another well-played cycle are
in for a surprise. Quite a few
surprises, in fact. Some of them are in
details: in the descending scale leading into the Allegro con brio of No. 1, for example, Gielen makes it a point to
have every individual note clearly audible – other conductors call for (or are
content with) a slur. Some surprises
involve contrasts between movements: in No. 9, the first movement is quick and
the second unexpectedly slow, with an expansiveness quite unusual for this
already-gigantic Scherzo. Then there are interpretative decisions that make
perfect sense but are unusual: in the finale of No. 9, the Turkish march simply
flows naturally here, while it tends to stick out like a sore thumb (or a compositional
miscalculation) in many other readings – Gielen simply accepts it as part of
the overall scene-painting of the movement, just as he accepts Beethoven’s
tempos as an integral part of the composer’s conceptualization of the
symphonies. The first movement of No. 3
takes some getting used to at Gielen’s pace, but the most surprising result of
his tempo choices is the first movement of No. 6, which really speeds along
despite the Allegro ma non troppo
marking: Gielen emphasizes the first word where most conductors focus on the
other three. The following Andante molto mosso therefore offers
greater respite and much greater contrast in this “Pastorale” than in
most. And then there is No. 8, which
Gielen refuses to treat as small or inconsequential: it dates, after all, to
the same time as No. 7 (whose finale is very much con brio here), and when Beethoven insists on musicians playing fff, he knows what he wants – and what
he wants in No. 8 is a great deal more force than many conductors accord a
symphony that is often handled too delicately for its own good. Discoveries, elegances and nuances abound
throughout Gielen’s Beethoven cycle, which is really quite refreshing to hear –
an unusual circumstance where these symphonies are concerned. There are, however, a couple of quibbles
about the Hänssler Classic
set. A small one is that the text for
the finale of No. 9 is not provided – although it is certainly easy enough to
find elsewhere. A larger one is the
sequencing of the CDs. Symphony No. 1 is
paired with No. 3; No. 2 with No. 7; No. 4 with No. 8; and No. 5 with No. 6
(No. 9 is on its own disc). These are
the pairings as the works were originally recorded, but they are an irritant
for anyone interested in how each symphony flows into the next or differs from
it. The timings would have easily allowed
pairing Nos. 1 and 2, 3 and 4, 5 and 6, and 7 and 8 – releasing the discs this
way is simply lazy. It is, however, well
worth putting up with frequent CD changes for the chance to experience a very
unusual approach to music about which listeners may have thought there was
little new to be heard.
Music lovers are often
surprised to find out that there is a fair amount of Beethoven that is not performed – not regularly, and
indeed not ever (or almost not ever).
But it is a fair bet that almost no one, musicians included, will have
heard Der glorreiche Augenblick
before its new Naxos recording. The
work’s listing as Op. 136 makes it seem like very late Beethoven (the Ninth
Symphony is Op. 125), but in fact it dates to 1814, after the European powers
had banded together to defeat Napoleon (although their second and final
conquest of him at Waterloo was a year in the future). The work – in English, its title is “The
Glorious Moment” – is an elaborate occasional piece, the occasion being the
gathering of Europe’s royal rulers in Vienna to attempt to return life to the
way it was before the upstart Corsican rattled all the crowned heads (and
replaced several of them). Cast as a
cantata featuring singers in the roles of Vienna (the city), Seherin (a
prophetess), Genius, and “Leader of the People,” Der glorreiche Augenblick includes parts for solo cello (Ben
Hughes) and violin (Clio Gould), plus a final choral section for boys’
choir. It is a big work, elaborate
throughout, to a suitably patriotic but poetically quite undistinguished text
by Aloys Weissenbach and Joseph Karl Bernard.
Outdated within months because of Napoleon’s escape from Elba, it is
more a historical curiosity than anything else – but it is a curiosity by
Beethoven, and is therefore
fascinating as a demonstration of how the composer, whose patriotism and love
of liberty were quite genuine, expressed himself in celebratory mode at a time
when all of Vienna (and, indeed, all of Europe) was breathing a huge, if
temporary, sigh of relief. Hilary Davan
Wetton, a fine choral conductor, plays things straight – the only real way to
handle them here – in a performance that is suitably serious, affirmative, and
as uplifting as it was intended to be…at least for listeners who can close
their eyes and imagine themselves in a particular city at a particular point in
time. Wetton misses one excellent
opportunity, though: Der glorreiche
Augenblick was first performed along with Wellington’s Victory, another infrequently heard and closely
related Beethoven work (although not as obscure as Der glorreiche Augenblick).
There was plenty of room on this CD to hear both these examples of
Beethovenian patriotism and still include the Choral Fantasia, but no – there is no celebration of Wellington’s
triumph at the battle of Vittoria here.
The Choral Fantasia, though,
is very well done. Always intended as a
kind of encore (although a huge one) – it was written for performance at the
end of the famous 1808 concert that featured the first hearings of the Fifth
and Sixth Symphonies, Fourth Piano Concerto and other works – the piece has
considerable verve and spirit within its very unusual structure, which includes
an extended solo piano part, a full-orchestra middle section, and a concluding
choral portion whose theme, initially heard in purely instrumental form,
foreshadows that of the finale of the Ninth Symphony. Wetton conducts it well, Leon McCawley
handles the piano part with aplomb, and the chorus sings with enthusiasm – and
kudos, many kudos, to Naxos for providing the full text and translation of all
the words for both pieces on this disc. Any listener interested in exploring some
surprising nooks and crannies of Beethoven’s output will find this CD
fascinating from start to finish.
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