Beethoven: The Nine Symphonies. Kate Royal, soprano;
Christine Rice, mezzo-soprano; Tuomas Katajala, tenor; Derek Walton, bass; MSO
Festival Chorus and Malmö Symphony Orchestra conducted by Robert Trevino.
Ondine. $39.99 (5 SACDs).
A Beethoven-symphony cycle is an
inevitable rite of passage for young conductors, and one that will likely be
held to even-higher-than-usual standards during this 250-year anniversary of
Beethoven’s birth – when all things Beethovenian have proliferated to an even greater
degree than usual. So Ondine’s release of a five-SACD set, featuring live
performances from October 2019 by the Malmö Symphony Orchestra conducted by
Robert Trevino (born 1984), faces unusually stiff competition among recordings
– to the extent that it is valid to turn performances of this music into
competitive endeavors. Trevino himself is still developing as a conductor, and
although the Malmö Symphony Orchestra is a full-scale modern symphonic one (the
booklet included with the release lists 91 musicians), it is not an ensemble
routinely deemed among the very best in the world, or even in Europe. So it is
particularly enjoyable to find out that Trevino brings some genuine
thoughtfulness and a few new ideas to Beethoven’s symphonies, and the Malmö
Symphony Orchestra plays them expertly and enthusiastically – if perhaps not
quite with the highest precision or best sectional balance at all times.
Trevino’s care with the music is
everywhere apparent. At the very start of No. 1, he is careful not to rush
things, to let the music of the Adagio
molto opening bloom naturally before the ensuing Allegro con brio bursts forth at quite a quick pace. Speed turns
out to be a characteristic of Trevino’s mostly bright and lively interpretations,
although he does not rush the music – the first movement of No. 1 sounds
playful as much as quick. The second movement is finely balanced between its
walking pace and songful lyricism, just as its tempo indication, Andante cantabile con moto, indicates. The
third movement is a headlong burst of enthusiasm, with well-considered dynamic
contrasts. The chord that opens the finale is as surprising as the famous one
in Haydn’s “Surprise” symphony, and the movement as a whole is bright and perky
in a very Haydnesque manner, showing Beethoven’s debt to the older composer
from whom he famously and rather churlishly claimed never to have learned
anything. The clear articulation of the Malmö Symphony’s strings is a
particular pleasure here, helping to compensate for the fact that the ensemble
is really too large for the delicacy of this music.
Symphony No. 2 announces itself with
powerful opening chords that anticipate the more-famous ones that begin the
“Eroica.” Trevino clearly sees these symphonies as a progression, not just as individual,
independent works. In the first movement of No. 2, he contrasts a slow and
stately opening with a propulsive main Allegro
con brio section. The second movement comes as a surprise: it is lovingly
paced as a true Larghetto, pretty
rather than profound – and played with great delicacy and warmth without,
however, lapsing into any inappropriately Romantic gestures. This entire
symphony is under-appreciated, and Trevino shows in this movement why its poise
and beauty mean that it should be seen and heard as more than just a
transitional work between Nos. 1 and 3. The third movement of No. 2 here has
rough good humor that looks ahead to No. 8, with Trevino doing a particularly
good job highlighting the swift changes of dynamics. The finale opens at a
quick tempo that could challenge the strings, but the Malmö players handle it
well, and Trevino finds some especially attractive balance between the string
section and the rest of the orchestra, even to the extent of highlighting the
bassoon line as well as the more-usual horns, and bringing out the timpani
effectively at the very end.
To present the symphonies in order on five
SACDs, this release needs an 85-minute second disc for Nos. 3 and 4. And this
disc sounds just as good as the other, shorter ones – which is to say, very
good indeed – showing yet again that it has become possible to offer
top-quality sound without adhering to the 80-minute length previously
considered the limit beyond which digital-disc audio would deteriorate. The fine
sound quality is noticeable in the “Eroica,” which Trevino launches with a
first movement that is a well-balanced mixture of drama and lyrical flow. Although
the movement does not lack scale, it is not as grand and intense as in some
other performances; as a result, Trevino’s reading ties the second and third
symphonies together in interesting ways, showing the “Eroica” as growing from
the earlier work rather than being a complete break from it. In this
interpretation, the second movement comes as something of a shock: it opens in
deep sorrow of a proto-Romantic type, with a halting rhythm that belies the
notion of a funeral march. Only gradually does the notion of a cortège emerge.
The lower strings are very fine here, solidly underpinning the entirety of a
dirge that, as lengthy as it is, seems even longer because of its emotional
depth. This performance offers a movement that blends high drama with deep
sadness to very fine effect. Where to go after this second movement is always a
problem for conductors. Trevino opts for a third-movement opening that breaks
the spell of the funereal second immediately, with scurrying strings and
particularly bright woodwinds playing at a tempo that immediately leaves the
gloom of the second movement behind. The effect is to split the symphony into
two parts – a common enough result in performances, and one that works well
here because the third movement is played with enough enthusiasm (and
pointed-enough horn parts) so it does not seem a comedown or afterthought in
the wake of the second. As if to emphasize the structure of this “part two” of
the symphony, Trevino leaps attacca
into the finale and sets a faster-than-usual pace for it, with a genuinely
breakneck coda. The result is intriguing: this “Eroica” in effect has three movements of approximately equal
length – the first, second, and third-plus-fourth. Heard this way, the symphony
has clearer through-darkness-to-light progress than it usually possesses. This
is an unusual approach that may not be to all tastes: certainly the finale is
propulsive, but its pacing, especially in the presto conclusion, makes it less weighty than it can be. Still,
Trevino’s handling of the symphony is convincing on its own terms and shows
that he has really thought through the ways in which the “Eroica” both fits
into the cycle and marks the beginning of a new symphonic approach after the
first two, comparatively Classical symphonies.
Symphony No. 4, like Nos. 2 and 8, tends
to get short shrift, or at least shorter shrift than the others, from many
conductors. Given Trevino’s propensity for speed, listeners may expect a
somewhat hectic approach to No. 4 here. Happily, though, Trevino again shows
himself to be a thoughtful conductor. No. 4 is not really a “small” symphony,
seeming that way only because it follows the “Eroica” and is about one-third
shorter. But the orchestration, the emotional connection, the rhythmic
development that Beethoven used in No. 3 are all refined further in No. 4, and
Trevino recognizes this – showing his understanding, for instance, in the
grandness of the chords that end the first movement’s slow opening section and
introduce a well-paced and strongly rhythmic main portion of the movement (in
which the bassoon and other winds sound particularly good). There is a sylvan
quality to this movement that looks ahead to the “Pastoral,” and Trevino
highlights it effectively. The gentle flow of the second movement, in which
Beethoven explores contrasting piano
and forte passages, is well-handled,
with the quietest passages being played in exemplary fashion by both strings
and winds. The overall scale of the movement comes through quite well – it is
as long as the first, and as long as the third and fourth combined – and shows
that this is in no way a “little” symphony. The third movement starts with a
strong contrast: as he often does, Trevino opts for a faster-than-usual tempo,
which in this case effectively pulls the symphony into brighter territory than
it inhabits for the first two movements. This also happens in the “Eroica,” of
course, but the change here is more seamless and feels less abrupt – one
instance of the ways in which No. 4 moves beyond No. 3. The slower Trio of the
third movement does come as a bit of a surprise here, since the main portion of
the movement is so quick, but Trevino gives it an almost dancelike quality that
works quite well. At the movement’s end, Trevino takes the same approach as in
the “Eroica,” starting the fourth movement attacca.
And this again has the effect of having listeners hear the last two movements
as a whole, giving them, and the symphony as a totality, additional
cohesiveness. Despite his penchant for quick tempos, Trevino does not rush
here, adhering to the Allegro molto
designation but not pushing past it. The result is a conclusion that is almost
the symphony’s capstone, although not quite – Beethoven does not become
thoroughly finale-focused until his next symphony. No. 4 is, in retrospect,
something of a transitional work, and Trevino’s performance does a fine job of
showing that while preserving the symphony’s individuality.
Although the insistently hammering first
movement is by far the most famous part of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, the second
movement is some 50% longer; and this is the first of his symphonies in which
Beethoven builds toward making the conclusion the climax – by himself
connecting the third and fourth movements directly and adding certain
instruments only in the finale (trombones, piccolo and contrabassoon). Trevino
gives the first movement plenty of drama, taking it at a suitable tempo and not
rushing it (it is marked Allegro con brio).
The orchestra’s strings show their mettle here, and so does the brass – which,
however, is not as warm and rounded in sound as are the brass sections of the
very best European orchestras. The brief periods of quietude in the movement,
and the always charming but slightly odd oboe cadenza, are well-contrasted with
the overall momentum and drama. The second movement, which so often comes
across as a letdown after the intensity of the first, here starts with
exceptional beauty in the strings that relieves the first movement’s tension
almost at once. But here as in Symphony No. 4, Beethoven resolutely uses strong
dynamic changes to carry over some of the emotions of the first movement and
transform them. Trevino’s close attention to the dynamics is a big plus for his
interpretation. In the third movement, when the first movement’s four-note “motto”
theme returns after its absence in the second movement, the orchestra’s brass
again shows its strength, making up in pointedness what it somewhat lacks in tonal
warmth. Trevino quickly restores the drama level of the first movement in the
third, and the strings’ handling of the Trio – especially in the lower strings
– is first-rate. The justly famous sense of the orchestra “falling asleep” near
this movement’s end, preparing for the tremendous “wake up!” call as the finale
begins, is well-handled; and the finale itself rings forth immediately with a
tremendous sense of triumph. It is, however, another movement in which Trevino
pushes the pace, in this case perhaps a bit too far: there is lyricism as well
as splendor in this movement, but rather less in Trevino’s reading than there
could be. However, the palpable excitement of the music certainly comes through
very clearly. The slow and delicate section midway through the movement
contrasts well with the rest of the material, paving the way for a
recapitulation as forceful as anything that has gone before. Trevino highlights
the glaring dissonances and some nice instrumental touches just before the coda
– including the brightness of the piccolo – and the very end, which is taken very quickly, leads to as effective an
insistence on the key of C as anyone could desire.
Conducting the “Pastoral” has proved a
challenge for many conductors of Beethoven cycles, even the most distinguished
among them. Herbert von Karajan, for example, never seemed to know quite what
to do with the symphony’s rather meandering gentleness and thematic simplicity:
none of his many recordings of the work was quite satisfactory, no matter how
well-played. No. 6 would also seem likely to be a particular challenge for
Trevino, with his fondness for brisk pacing and thematic clarity. Trevino doers
indeed have some difficulty at the symphony’s start, choosing a speed a bit
beyond the designated Allegro ma non
troppo. But a slight, barely perceptible slowdown early in the movement
improves the pacing considerably, and the delicacy with which the orchestra
handles the flowing themes is winning. Having settled on a satisfactory tempo,
Trevino sticks with it and lets the music unfold at its own pace, focusing
mostly on varying the dynamics – the very quiet pianissimo sections are especially effective. The second movement
is the symphony’s longest and often feels that way, its Szene am Bach coming across as essentially static. But Beethoven
wants this movement paced Andante molto
mosso, not a crawl but a fast walk. Trevino does not take it quite that
quickly, but he maintains a consistent walking pace with, as in the first
movement, careful attention to the dynamic contrasts that provide what drama
this essentially undramatic-by-design movement contains. The feeling here is of
a pleasant waterside stroll with occasional pauses to sit and admire the
scenery – a most justifiable portrait, although Beethoven made it clear that he
was not writing “program music” so explicitly. Trevino does seem to be more comfortably
in his element in the somewhat-more-ebullient remainder of the symphony. There
is a pleasant jauntiness to the third movement, whose deliberately coarse
rhythms Trevino handles very well, although the Trio sections are a bit too
fast to be fully convincing. Unsurprisingly, the fourth movement’s storm is
managed with great aplomb, the timpani pounding out the thunderclaps and the
rest of the orchestra cutting loose to fine effect. Then the finale enters a
touch tentatively, as if Trevino is reluctant to let the storm go – but the
pace soon becomes a very pleasant Allegretto,
and the sense of joy at the storm’s passing comes through well. What Trevino
gets right here is that the music needs to sound entirely natural, unforced and
straightforward, although it is scarcely simple in structural terms. By letting
the movement flow with gently rocking motion, Trevino allows the symphony to
conclude warmly and effectively. This is, all in all, a sensitive and very
nicely balanced reading.
The enthusiasm with which Trevino
approaches Beethoven’s Seventh is scarcely surprising, but his statuesque
handling of the first movement’s opening is a touch unexpected. He allows this
introduction, Beethoven’s longest, to unfold at an unrushed pace and build in
its own time, so it comes across almost as a self-contained four-minute piece
that contrasts strongly with the quick, celebratory Vivace. The orchestra’s winds shine especially brightly here, and
there is unflagging enthusiasm from the whole ensemble, with Trevino sometimes
shading over almost into impatience to get to the next delightful episode. The
performance is not so much rushed as it is eager. The very quiet opening of the
Allegretto therefore comes as
something of a shock, pulling listeners into an altogether different world.
Trevino adheres closely to the Allegretto
designation, not pushing the music but not allowing it to drag or become
over-serious. It flows quite well, Trevino’s care with dynamics making the
gradual crescendo about two minutes
from the start very effective. The following decrescendo is handled with equal thoughtfulness, as is the
full-throated delivery of the main theme as the movement’s end approaches. The
performance is a trifle on the cool side, a bit studied, but otherwise very
convincing. The third movement bursts forth with vigor and at a slower tempo
than might be expected, given its Presto
indication and Trevino’s tendency to keep things brisk. Here the rhythmic
contrasts among the movement’s sections come through with fine clarity, and
Trevino’s usual care with dynamics serves the material very well. The finale,
taken attacca, goes beyond jauntiness
and almost borders on hysteria through sheer speed and rhythmic insistence (the
horns hold up well but are clearly being pushed close to their limit). The
undeniable excitement of the movement comes partly from wondering whether the
orchestra can possibly keep together at this speed – and it does, but the
performance could not have been an easy one for the musicians to get through. Certainly
Trevino’s flair for the dramatic is on full display here: the movement is a
whirlwind of sound and orchestral color, concluding as if the music simply runs
off the page in sheer delight.
And then we get to the puzzle of Symphony
No. 8, the toughest nut to crack in the cycle. Beethoven thought it better than
No. 7 and said he was not pleased that people generally preferred the Seventh.
No. 8 is the only symphony in which Beethoven repeats a home key: F major, the
same key as the “Pastoral” and therefore an indication of a similarity of
intended mood and effect – but certainly not of method. In most cycles,
including Trevino’s, No. 8 is the shortest of all the symphonies; but this is a
work that is compressed, not truncated. It has no slow movement, although both
central movements partake of a reduced tempo. It is certainly Haydnesque, among
other ways in its touches of humor and its third-movement Tempo di Menuetto. But it is not really a tribute to the older
composer, who had died three years before this symphony’s creation in 1812 and
for whom Beethoven seems to have had at most a grudging respect. Despite its
brevity, the Eighth is not a “little” symphony – it requires the same power and
dynamic range as the Seventh. Most conductors have no very clear idea of what
to make of it, and therefore tend just to present the music and let the
audience make of it what it will. That is what Trevino does, offering a very
well-played rendition that is a performance but not really an interpretation. There
is greater stateliness to the first movement than might be expected, thanks to
a tempo that is slower than would seem likely from Trevino in a movement marked
Allegro vivace e con brio. The second
movement percolates along pleasantly, being perhaps a touch more serious than
its Allegretto scherzando marking
would indicate – the sudden dynamic changes here are among the ways in which
this symphony’s humor channels that of Haydn. The third movement, which is
almost a second Scherzo, is well-paced here and features nicely accentuated
rhythms and well-highlighted brass – especially so in the Trio, where the horns
are warmer in sound than usual. The fleet finale, another movement in which
Trevino opts for a faster-than-usual tempo, is bubbly and suitably outgoing –
once more showing parallels with Haydn, although again Trevino is a bit on the
too-serious side. The performance as a whole is very pleasant, if scarcely
revelatory.
If conductors tend to be unsure what to do
with Beethoven’s Eighth, all of them seem to be quite certain of how to handle
the Ninth – although their certainty inevitably changes over time, being
transformed into some other, more-mature certainty that is in its turn
transformed yet again. So Trevino’s handling of the Ninth in this cycle will
surely not be his last word on the symphony – but it is a very fine, as it
were, “first” word, from a recording standpoint. The first movement opens with
suitable drama and is, as it should be, un
poco maestoso, although the pacing is a bit quick for the designation Allegro ma non troppo. The orchestra
plays with sufficient weightiness to make this a strong opening for so extended
a symphony, with a sense of turbulence quite different from that in the “storm”
movement of the “Pastoral.” Trevino is not quite as attentive here as he is in
the other symphonies to changes in dynamics, but the quieter passages of the
movement are nevertheless quite well handled and are suitably contrasted with
the grander and louder ones. Interestingly, the pacing results in Trevino’s
performance having nearly equal lengths for the first three movements: the
first and third run 14½ minutes each, the second just one minute less. This
conveys balance in a way that is rather unusual for the Ninth. The second
movement builds strength onto the first, but the pacing here, surprisingly, is
a touch on the slow side: the primary tempo is supposed to be Molto vivace, but in this performance
the speed is a bit slower than that of the first movement – resulting in a
rather curious effect, in which the Scherzo seems more a continuation of the
opening movement than a contrast to it. The movement’s subsequent Presto material retains the same basic
pulse as the main portion, being differentiated more through instrumental
emphasis than by its pacing. The movement is quite well played but not
particularly distinctive. The third movement, on the other hand, is lovely in every
way: Trevino clearly takes to heart the cantabile
portion of the tempo marking, drawing a songful, warm and rather sweet
performance from the orchestra. The sheer beauty of Beethoven’s themes here
stands in marked contrast to the craggy and turbulent nature of those in the
first two movements, and Trevino lets the pleasures unfold with natural flow
surpassing that of flowing brook in the second movement of the “Pastoral.”
Indeed, there is a touch of pastoral quality in this performance, a sense of
simplicity and manifest beauty that sweeps away the concerns of the first two
movements and aptly sets the stage for a resumption of drama in the finale. The
last movement duly returns to the symphony’s earlier mood, after which the
fourth movement’s main theme is introduced so quietly that it seems to sneak
into listeners’ ears – an effective approach that gives Trevino plenty of
opportunities to build the theme’s orchestration and volume, which he does to
good effect. When bass Derek Walton enters to proclaim “enough of these
sounds,” there is a genuine sense of change, and the woodwind accompaniment in
the first verse of Schiller’s An die
Freude is handled with excellent precision and balance. The MSO Festival
Chorus sings with enthusiasm and voices the words clearly – and clarity is also
a hallmark of the performance of soloists Kate Royal, Christine Rice and Tuomas
Katajala. The Turkish march midway through the movement has some piquancy here,
neatly anticipating the use of “Turkish” percussion at the movement’s very end
– which, not surprisingly, Trevino takes at a genuine Presto. In fact, throughout the finale, all the instrumental
passages maintain solid forward momentum as they provide bridges between and among
the vocal ones. And in the sung portions, the verse starting with Seid umschlungen, Millionen is here
delivered with a great deal of feeling, and the prayerful feeling of this
section shows considerable sensitivity. Overall, it is the sensitivity of this
performance, and of Trevino’s readings of the symphonies as a whole, that is
the primary impression left behind by this very finely played, clearly
recorded, thoughtful and frequently elegant entry among the many available
releases of Beethoven’s complete symphonies.