Beethoven (1)

Musical enthusiasms can change over the years. Beethoven has always been at the centre of my appreciation of classical music; his personal story of struggle and victory over temperamental angst and deafness, all part of the impression his music makes on me. But as I have got older, whilst still appreciating his genius, I now find an aggression implicit in his work that makes it difficult for me to warm to the music. There is an in-the -face remorseless, humourless attack in some of his music; so much so for me that I feel I need to steel myself against it rather than to surrender to it . His brilliance is not in doubt (if it was, who am I to question it anyway!). But if music ‘speaks’ to one, here is an insistent voice that I now find less overwhelming than I once did.

However I have been re-playing my CD’s of Beethoven’s thirty two piano sonatas in the recordings by Paul Lewis on the Harmonia Mundi label, and perhaps need to revise my opinion and withdraw my confession. I am amazed at the sheer inventiveness of the composer. Before the onset of his deafness and his abandonment from the concert platform, he was renowned in his own day as a brilliant improviser and virtuoso pianist and the proof of that is in the music. One has the feeling of an exciting journey in which he communicates with himself and with the listener.

There is this constant sense of dialogue, the keyboard straining to become what can only perfectly be experienced in an orchestral score. To the untrained ear such as mine, the unexpected keeps on happening – ‘where is he going next?’ one asks and invariably it’s not where you might expect. Despite my reservations above, Beethoven ‘talks’ to you in his sonatas, demands close attention, but leaves you refreshed and wanting more. (There’s plenty more – I am only at No. 8!). Its very busy music and I enjoy the adagios and menuettos that balance the vigorous allegros which are so characteristic of the more restless movements. Something again to do with my age perhaps - I like quiet music more than I once did! I will write on this again when I have come to the end of this particular pilgrimage.

Meanwhile I have the advantage of listening to a master pianist for whom fidelity to the score matters more than personal display. I wrote about hearing Paul Lewis perform in April of 2008.

B.R.

Birmingham and Bournemouth:Lugansky and Lill

Two orchestral concerts on consecutive days this week – an unusual but welcome luxury. My favourite orchestra – City of Birmingham Symphony on Wednesday, with their brilliant if over publicised director of music, Andris Nelsons (nine photos of him in the programme is a bit much!). The highlight for me was Rachmaninov’s 3rd. Piano Concerto: Nikolai Lugansky the soloist. I have his excellent Warner’s recording (again with the C.B.S.O.), but this performance was nothing less than sensational, given a poetic as well as a powerful interpretation of this my favourite concerto, with a superb contribution from the orchestra.

An interesting man, Lugansky believes in God, he says, ‘because there is music’. In an interview with a Dutch journalist, he has quoted the legendry pianist Michelangeli, who once said that a pianist should be the priest of the composer. Even with a barn-stormer like this work, Lugansky has a coolness and purity in his performances (I have also heard him play the second Rachmaninov concerto). He is exceptional amongst the many pianists of his generation.

Yesterday in Bristol, John Lill, a very different artist and performing a very different concerto - Beethoven’s second -played with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, reduced in size for this very Mozartian work. It was a gentle and sensitive performance as was the Ballet Music - ‘Idomeneo’ that preceded it. The conductor was the American James Gattigan, young, but who has been around a bit. I counted more than twenty five named international orchestras he has worked with in the programme notes, which ended with the information that he ‘resides in Brooklyn with his wife’. But when, one wonders?

Both concerts had Dvorak in common. On Wednesday in Symphony Hall it was his eighth, and in Bristol last night, his seventh symphonies. Both were played with dedication and brio, and had been clearly well prepared, Birmingham’s orchestra having the advantage of working with a permanent conductor. However Gaffigan was impressive, and the orchestra applauded him as well as the audience. But I have reservations about the way Dvorak is generally performed, as a twentieth rather than nineteenth century composer– with emphases on climax and speed. For me his use of the woodwind gives the clue to his genius. Perhaps I am fantasising, and I am no expert. He certainly moved beyond his grounding in Moravian and Bohemian folk music and contributed to the development of symphonic music beyond Brahms. But I relished the quieter moments in both performances and flinched a bit at the enormous climaxes. But two wonderful concerts!

B.R.

A Living Legend

I have been aware of the veteran American conductor, Lorin Maazel, for years, and to my great delight last night saw him in action. He collects orchestras as well as the plaudits of the critics. He is or has been musical director of the New York Philharmonic, the Philharmonia, the Clevedon Orchestra, the National Symphony Orchestra, the Arturo Toscanini Philharmonic (a new one to me),the Bavarian Radio Symphony, director of the Vienna State Opera and – of interest to this website – he is now coming to the end of three years working with the opera house orchestra of Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències (City of Arts and Sciences),the enormous entertainment complex, designed by Santiago Calatrava and Félix Candela, in the city of Valencia.

Last night it was a privilege to be present at music making of great distinction. It was the turn of the Philharmonia as part of their current tour with Maazel, performing a programme which is to be repeated in Dortmund next week. He is like so many conductors it seems, small in stature, conserving his energy on the podium, with spare but clear directions to his players -who clearly have great regard for him – but then expansively leading them to climaxes of which there were many last night. He conducted throughout without a score.

It was an exhilarating programme which I greatly enjoyed, the centre piece for many there was clearly Tchaikovsky’s 1st Piano Concerto performed passionately but also sensitively by the Macedonian pianist Simon Trpceski who had some trouble in getting the piano stool at the right height, applauded by some of the audience when he had done so and responding with a mocking bow. There was exceptional rapport between orchestra and soloist. It was a virtuoso performance, but that was true of the whole evening.

It might seem perverse but for me the highlight of the concert was the first piece, Kodaly’s Dances from Galanta, which has for long been a favourite of mine, as has all the work of this Hungarian composer. With Bela Bartok, these two friends brought to a wider audience much of the country’s folk music. I visited Kodaly’s house in Budapest when I was in that city in the winter of 1994 (see in my European Cities blogs) and over the years have collected some of his music on disc. It was a sensational performance – seeing music as it is made is so much better than just hearing it, and the relationship between the instruments – especially some wonderful clarinet playing and gorgeous string tone – was a revelation to me.

After the interval the evening ended in triumphal mood with Ravel’s orchestration of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition with the prolonged climax of The Great Gate of Kiev ringing in my ears as I left Colston Hall.

A great evening!

Bryan

Kirill Karabits and the B.S.O.

Following on my last posting, I was at the Colston Hall in Bristol last night to hear the first programme there of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra under their new principal conductor, the young Ukranian, Kirill Karabits. As he appeared on the platform the audience welcomed him warmly, but he is the antithesis of a showy extrovert, and having briefly acknowledged the applause, he turned to face his new orchestra, and in a moment we were into the first piece. From my seat above the orchestra I was able to watch his distinctive conducting style. He uses no baton but with expressive hands and arms, moulds the music, his eyes darting from the score to the players as if together they were conjuring up the sound. A comment by Christine (Dec 5th) on the first concert I saw him conduct, referred to the passion of his conducting. I agree and it is marked by the important qualities of commitment and concentration as well.

The three varied works performed last night were a challenge to this new collaboration. My main interest was the symphony, Sibelius’s 2nd. I have several recordings and treasure performances by John Barbirolli and Simon Rattle. It’s a work I love – perhaps too much for I was just a little disappointed with last night’s performance, but cannot be sure why. Perhaps I was expecting too much. A work of starts and endings, it’s not easy to create a sense of wholeness. But it was played with verve and, yes, passion, and deserved the enthusiastic response from the audience at its ending.

Renaud Capucon was the soloist in Bruch’s Violin Concerto and gave a splendid performance which was matched by the sensitive accompanying of the orchestra; it was all of a piece. But the unexpected revelation of the concert for me was the opening work, The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca by the Czech composer Bohuslav Martinu (1890-19159). Densely orchestrated, employing every part of the orchestra, it revealed a hidden melodic unity which emerged continually from the torrent of sound, which I found exciting and very moving. Critics of Martinu suggest that he had no clear style and was too influenced by changing fashions in music. From the little that I have heard of his huge output that would have been my impression until last night. I was overwhelmed by the piece. Talking to a member of the orchestra in the interval he said he had never played the work before. That was in no way apparent and pays tribute to the quality of the orchestra and the preparation of its conductor.

The confidence and élan of the performances bodes well for the future of a new partnership, which we celebrated last night.

B.R.

Charismatic Conductors

There have been quite a few changes on the orchestral scene recently and I have picked up references to three conductors who have mounted the podium for the first time as musical directors of orchestras. The most sensational of them is of course the 28 year old Venezuelan, Gustavo Dudamel, who has featured in these blogs before (and in many other places!). He opened his tenure as director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic last week with a formidable programme of Mahler and John Cage, conducting without a score and receiving a ten minute standing ovation with the final work. ‘Here was a probing, rigorous and richly characterised interpretation’ wrote the New York Times music critic.

Here at home my local orchestra, The Bournemouth Symphony, was conducted by the Ukranian Kirill Karabits for the first time in his role as their chief conductor . Fiona Maddocks from The Sunday Observer was there, and she gave him and what she describes as ‘this fine orchestra’, an enthusiastic review. She called it ‘an exhilarating debut which won a rapturous response from the capacity audience’. Andrew Clements in The Guardian was more cautious and complained that the performance of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring lacked ’a sense of overall organisation’ and strained the resources of the orchestra. The same orchestra, but different perceptions. I heard Karabits conducting his new orchestra last year ( see December 5th.blog ) and was impressed, and will be hearing this new combination again later this month.

There’s a new duo in Scotland as well. Donald Runnicles is now the chief conductor of the B.B.C. Scottish Symphony Orchestra and Rowena Smith reviewed a recent concert in the City Halls, Glasgow. Mahler’s 1st Symphony was the main work, as it had been in Los Angeles a few days before. The critic was impressed and, it ‘bodes well for the future’ she concludes. With a passing reference to the number of young conductors around – Krabbitts is 32 – she says that despite the excitement of youth, Scotland has opted for experience. Runnicles has also come home. Scottish by birth, he has many positions of responsibility in America and Europe, some of which remain and has a considerable operatic reputation.

An interesting week with perhaps rather too much attention to the figure on the rostrum. Whatever the charisma of the man or woman out in front, its the players who make the music. Despite the enormous enthusiasm for Dudamel, it is significent that he accepted the applause by standing not alone, but with the orchestra.

B.R.

Pianistic Pyrotechnics

I am missing my annual visit to the Henry Wood Promenade Concerts in London’s Royal Albert Hall. My first visit was in 1947 and in the following year I had a season ticket, and have tried most years to go to one or two concerts since. But thanks to B.B.C. TV I have watched several of this year’s programmes, and it has been almost as good as actually being there. I think the programming has been a bit odd – even esoteric – with an emphasis on anniversaries of one sort or another, but that’s a question of preference and taste.

I have just been watching a re-play of two of this week’s concerts, both featuring works for piano and orchestra. Stephen Hough concluded his survey of all four of Tchaikovsky’s piano concertos with a bravura performance of the composer’s Concert Fantasia in G major with David Robertson conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Generally agreed to be an unequal piece, it was new to me and I enjoyed it very much, as did the audience. Full of piano pyrotechnical challenges, Hough who has become a favourite of the promenaders, was fully equal to its demands.

The previous night the renowned Chinese pianist Lang Lang played Chopin’s Piano Concerto No.2 in F minor. I have since read a fairly cool review of his performance, the critic implying that the pianist 'played' with the music. Certainly he is a performer, in love with music to the point of ecstasy, flirting, smooching even with the key board, but also achieving exquisitely delicate and faultless playing. The audience went mad when it was over, and the encore, almost a formality, was never in doubt. He is an astonishing and still very young artist, and on this occasion had the advantage of being beautifully accompanied by the Staatskapelle Dresden, conducted by Fabio Luisi.

What is it that makes ordinary mortals play like these and many other virtuoso pianists? Much of the time most of these two weren’t even looking at the keyboard, their fingers dashing up and down with consummate confidence, Lang Lang in particular, seeming to commune with higher powers - or the Albert Hall ceiling. Learning to play the piano was one of many of the things I have tried to do and failed. (Learning Spanish is another!). I managed to plod through one of Beethoven’s early sonatas, but never became proficient enough to play without being glued to the score and making many errors. I even stumble at this computer’s keyboard! And yet here are these amazing international artists who seem to belong to another species of human being and bring such delight to those who love music.

B.R.

Music and Message

This has been a remarkable weekend at the London Promenade Cocerts. Daniel Barenboim’s West-Eastern Divan Orchestra has performed in three programmes, the first and third of which were televised.

The orchestra itself is an event. Conceived by Barenboim and his friend the Palestinian born critic Edward Said, who died in 2003, it comes together each summer and consists of young musicians from Israel and Arab countries. Barenboim – surely one of the very greatest artists of the age – insists that the orchestra is not a political project but a humanitarian one. He describes it as an ongoing dialogue linking the universal, metaphysical language of music with the continuous dialogue between people of all ages. It is, he says, a forum where young people can express themselves freely and openly. ‘We believe in only two absolutely necessary political ideas – there is no military solution to the Israeli- Palestinian conflict, and the destinies of the Israeli and Palestinian’.

The orchestra has performed throughout the world in the ten years of its existence, and received a tremendous welcome, in a packed Albert Hall on Friday and yesterday. There is an amazing rapport between conductor and players, with Barenboim almost reluctantly accepting the immense applause of the audience. He seems, as he conducts, to respond to his musicians as much as to direct them. It was Liszt, Wagner and Berlioz on Friday and with another chamber concert of Mendelssohn and Berg later that evening, Barenboim smiled at the audience and said – ‘the encore is at 10.15’! It was Beethoven’s opera ‘Fidelio’ yesterday, with its inescapable message of freedom for imprisoned people. Splendid performances, rapturously received. On Friday, listening alone and yet feeling part of a community of hope in peace and justice, I was near to tears, as I am sure were many others.

There is an interesting connection with Spain for readers of these blogs. The orchestra has its summer school in Seville with some young musicians from Spain now also taking part in the orchestra as well. The Barenboim-Said Foundation is financed by the regional government of Andalucía to develop education through music projects based on the principles of coexistence and dialogue. This of course in a region – as Barenboim pointed out in an interview in the interval on Friday –where once Jews and Muslims lived together in peace.

Let Barenboim have the last word. ‘The Divan was conceived as a project against ignorance. A project against the fact that it is absolutely essential for people to get to know the other, to understand what the other thinks and feels, without necessarily agreeing with it. I want to create a platform where the two sides can disagree and not resort to knives.’ He has done so.

B.R.