Choral symphony
Apr. 10th, 2011 12:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosDanny and I just came from a performance of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 by Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra and Chorus. What can I say? Invigorating, exhausting, stellar. I was blown away when we heard them perform Nos. 7 and 8 three years ago, and while some of the qualities are the same—the rawness of period instruments and lucence of a smaller ensemble—this was a totally different experience. No. 9 involves a lot of bombast and sublime noise. It was wonderful to share it with Danny, for whom parts of this big, iconic, revolutionary composition were unfamiliar.
Audiences have become accustomed to hearing the third, hymn-like movement performed with Brucknerian introspection. Bruno Weil tends to direct the ensemble with considerable pluck, and this was no exception. It felt more like a gentle stroll through the countryside than a prayer or reverie.
In the final movement, when the soloists returned with, "Freude, Tochter aus Elysium," it was pure, cloudless laughter.
Recordings are wonderful, but this music was written to be appreciated in live performance. From a recording you can never get the power of observing a scrap of rhythm or melody tossed (like a volleyball) between the first and second violins, violas, cellos, various voices of the winds, and tympani. Tafelmusik's tight and transparent interpretations achieve this to the utmost effect. It would be worthwhile to study to what extent these instrumental conversations are omitted from newer compositions.
The first half of the concert included three a capella compositions Weil had chosen to complement the esoteric wonder expressed in certain passages of the 9th: Mendelssohn's Ehre sei Gott in der Höhe, Brahms' youthful Missa Canonica, and Pärt's Nunc dimittis. The chorus was dead on, so moving that I could have left at intermission without dissatisfaction. All three pieces were new to me. The first bars of the Brahms moved me immediately to tears. Clearly his genius was already fully realized.
In comparison, Beethoven struggled much harder in some ways. It's impressive how much similarity his Choral Fantasy (1808) bears to Symphony No. 9 (1824), but the former is a dog, the latter one of the greatest masterpieces of Western music. During those 16 years he played around with the same themes, but greatly developed his powers of orchestration. It is a heroic transformation in itself.
Audiences have become accustomed to hearing the third, hymn-like movement performed with Brucknerian introspection. Bruno Weil tends to direct the ensemble with considerable pluck, and this was no exception. It felt more like a gentle stroll through the countryside than a prayer or reverie.
In the final movement, when the soloists returned with, "Freude, Tochter aus Elysium," it was pure, cloudless laughter.
Recordings are wonderful, but this music was written to be appreciated in live performance. From a recording you can never get the power of observing a scrap of rhythm or melody tossed (like a volleyball) between the first and second violins, violas, cellos, various voices of the winds, and tympani. Tafelmusik's tight and transparent interpretations achieve this to the utmost effect. It would be worthwhile to study to what extent these instrumental conversations are omitted from newer compositions.
The first half of the concert included three a capella compositions Weil had chosen to complement the esoteric wonder expressed in certain passages of the 9th: Mendelssohn's Ehre sei Gott in der Höhe, Brahms' youthful Missa Canonica, and Pärt's Nunc dimittis. The chorus was dead on, so moving that I could have left at intermission without dissatisfaction. All three pieces were new to me. The first bars of the Brahms moved me immediately to tears. Clearly his genius was already fully realized.
In comparison, Beethoven struggled much harder in some ways. It's impressive how much similarity his Choral Fantasy (1808) bears to Symphony No. 9 (1824), but the former is a dog, the latter one of the greatest masterpieces of Western music. During those 16 years he played around with the same themes, but greatly developed his powers of orchestration. It is a heroic transformation in itself.
