The word “cycle” can be problematic
when referring to musical performances.
It sounds so routine – like a dishwasher cycle. But cycle suggests a completion, a circle, a
revolution. And the word “revolution”
suits Beethoven like no other composer.
His “Eroica” Symphony has been described by Franz Welser-Most as one of
three Promethean works that changed the course of music – the others being
Wagner’s Tristan & Isolde and Stravinsky’s Rite
of Spring, which were also performed this season. And while Beethoven’s Symphonies are performed
often, and usually in a routine manner, playing all nine of them in consecutive
concerts is still rather rare – the last such event in Cleveland took place in
the 1990s.
Beethoven’s nine symphonies are among
the most varied written by any composer.
Consider that Haydn wrote 104 symphonies that, while beautiful, did not
significantly change or expand the form.
Truth be told, most of them possess a certain “sameness” and I find
myself mentally placing minuets from one symphony with finales from another on
my internal jukebox. Mozart’s 41
symphonies are a bit more varied, but mostly the same length and similar in form
and orchestration. That is not the case
with Beethoven. Each symphony has
something new: The “wrong key” used for the introduction of the First; the
unprecedented length of the Third; the unrelenting drive of the opening
movement of the Fifth – not to mention the joining of the third and fourth
movements via a bridge passage, an innovation that has been frequently imitated
since; breaking the four movement tradition by writing five movements for the
Sixth – to say nothing of the programmatic indications; the “Ode to Joy” Chorus
that caps off the Ninth. It’s no
exaggeration to say that Beethoven’s nine symphonies are one of the great
achievements of Western civilization – worth cherishing and protecting.
For this group of performances,
Welser-Most cannily balanced the symphonies in programs which emphasized their
contrasts: 1 & 3, 4 & 7, 8 & 5, 6 & 2 – with the 9th
paired with the Grosse Fuge, Op. 133.
Then there were the performances.
Needless to say, the orchestra
was well-nigh immaculate technically, leaving me to consider how lucky that I,
who developed a taste for Classical music without prompting from my parents and
entirely by choice, am to live in an area with one of the world’s
unquestionably finest orchestras – in a city that happens to have a low cost of
living, which makes it possible for me to attend fairly frequently. There are at least three complete recorded
Beethoven symphony sets from our orchestra: Szell, Maazel, and Dohnányi. There are also recordings of individual
symphonies, including a fine First Symphony
from Rodziński. Szell’s is considered something of a gold standard. Maazel’s is almost a non-starter. Dohnányi’s is a comfortable, responsible, and
very well recorded run through. Though the
Cleveland Orchestra’s polish is a given, it takes a conductor to make the music
to the next level.
Interpretation is ultimately about
choices – and performers of all stripes, from actors to pianists to conductors,
know that every interpretive decision must be weighed in relation to all the
other decisions: Do I lean into this passage for emphasis, and risk structural
continuity? Do I play this andante more
slowly to demonstrate my profundity, or step up the pace and risk being called
shallow?
I didn’t agree with every choice
Welser-Most made over these last several days, but I never felt that his
interpretive choices were based on what others had previously done, but based
on his own study of the score. That
alone puts him ahead of about half of his colleagues, who are satisfied to
present yet another routine performance of a well-known masterwork Tempos in general were on the brisk side,
rubato was subtle, with balance between each section carefully measured. Each symphony featured at least one moment
where I heard something new in these works – some of which I’ve listened to for
over 30 years. In sum, I found
Welser-Most’s interpretations deeply-felt, sometimes arresting, never arbitrary
– individual, but not eccentric for the sake of being “different”. It’s
clear to me that Welser-Most feels that there are extra-musical implications to
much of Beethoven’s output – that he recognizes that Beethoven, unlike Haydn
and Mozart, was a well-read man, dedicated to knowledge outside music, and
unafraid to express his opinions, whether personal or political. Through that prism, Beethoven’s symphonies
are more than just “great music.” They
are relevant in today’s world.
The Eroica was
startling in conception and execution. Welser-Most
favored a headlong tempo in the opening movement that emphasized the relative
modernity of the work: the theme that starts to establish itself, then veers
off in another direction; the jabbing syncopations; the distant keys – a far
cry from the suave, majestic Karajan.
And the performance was the better for challenging listeners’
preconceptions of how the music ought to go. (Welser-Most also eschewed the
repeat.) Throughout the Eroica, I was
reminded how shocked the initial audience must have been at the work’s
gigantism and modernity.
Welser-Most’s approach to tempo didn’t
always work. His uber-rapid tempo for
the opening movement of the Fifth Symphony,
along with cutting rests short, drained the piece of much of its dramatic
power. Matters weren’t helped when a
lone yahoo yelled “Bravo” after the movement’s conclusion – prompting murmured
laughter from the audience. An
inevitable issue with concerts that feature ”popular” classics is that they
attract those who don’t know the rules of concert etiquette. Such an example was not the only time the
concert experience was disturbed by careless behavior. Cell phones were unusually present, from a
serial texter several rows in front of me, to a ring between movements of
Beethoven’s Eighth. But the “Bravo” incident took me out of the
music and I wasn’t fully present again until midway through the Fifth’s second
movement. Welser-Most was particularly
attentive to Beethoven’s markings in the third movement, where he placed the
ritardando just before the theme exactly
where Beethoven marked it – not before as too many conductors carelessly do. The Scherzo segued seamlessly to the Finale,
which went at a great clip while never losing control.
Well deserved applause for the Fifth Symphony
A confession: Over the years, the Seventh
Symphony has established itself as my favorite of Beethoven’s – maybe my
favorite over all. It was this
orchestra’s rendition of the Seventh that encapsulated all that I admire about
Beethoven, as well as Welser-Most’s approach.
Then there was the clarity: for the first time, I was able to clearly
hear those little subtle strands which are in the score, but too often buried
under what Szell derisively called a “lump of sound” by other orchestras. The second movement, which Leonard Bernstein derided for its "Johnny One-Note" theme, was reminiscent of a restrained funeral march. Welser-Most's treatment of the Scherzo's Trio was a true Assai meno presto (i.e., "somewhat less fast") instead of the drunken quasi-adagio that too many conductors turn it into. The finale was delivered at a whiplash tempo
that would have left other orchestras in disarray. Not so in Cleveland, where the increasing
volume and constant accelerando were delivered with a virtuosic aplomb which
reminded this listener that control and exuberance are not opposing ideals. For
once, I was glad to hear the repeat.
The cycle was capped off by the Ninth. Signs advised the work was being recorded for
future CD release, which is interesting considering that Welser-Most and the
orchestra have already recorded
the Ninth. But within a few bars of the
opening, I understood why a new recording is underway: Welser-Most’s
interpretation of the music has ripened considerably. The opening movement was suitably epic without
the trudging tempo favored by too many conductors. Instead, Welser-Most seemed to heed a word
Beethoven had scribbled on the manuscript: “Desperation.” The Scherzo brilliantly held the audience’s
attention, including a gaggle of school children who weren’t always exemplars
of proper concert behavior. The Adagio
never sacrificed clarity for the sake of the meltingly lovely melody, and the
fanfare before the coda was surprising, for once. In the Finale, Welser-Most kept matters
moving along and prevented the movement from sounding episodic, which is a rare
accomplishment – as the movement is the most episodic Beethoven wrote. But everything emerged with continuity. The chorus sang spectacularly, with
particular attention paid to the dynamics – I wonder if Welser-Most
deliberately had the chorus sing the words “ganzen Welt” (“entire World”) with
added emphasis, as if to say “this music is for everyone, even in those parts
of the world where political and religious leaders have rendered Beethoven’s
message unwelcome”. The soloists were exemplary as well, in
particular the beautifully projected yet liquid toned rendition by bass-baritone
Dashon Burton. It was a triumphant capstone to a memorable
week.
The orchestras of Beethoven’s time
were often insecure technically and questionably tuned. The works were new for the players, who often
played from hastily printed manuscripts, and for the audience, which was used
to less challenging works. Often in the
past week, I found myself ruminating on how Beethoven would react to hearing
our Cleveland Orchestra play those works – if we could have zapped them back to
19th Century Vienna. I like to
think he would have been pleased.
A note about the program book: The
orchestra created a rather thick booklet for the entire series. The highlights were superb essays on each
symphony by Welser-Most himself, along with thought provoking quotations by
figures ranging from Confucius
to Cesar Chavez to Malala Yousafzai. The message was clear: Beethoven’s music and
the Cleveland Orchestra’s mission are about more than just music. They are part of a mission to allow people to
commune and celebrate our common humanity.
I can’t help but thinking that Beethoven would be pleased with both the
quality of performances and underlying substance of The Prometheus Project. Which makes me doubly glad the orchestra will
be taking Beethoven’s Symphonies to Vienna and Tokyo.
