Bruckner's Symphony No 9, an introduction by Andris Nelsons
Monday, February 19, 2024
Andris Nelsons on a symphony he places alongside the mighty ninths of Beethoven and Mahler
Even professional musicians can take time to get fully into the music of Bruckner, but now he is one of my favourite composers. This music is food for the soul. He’s a great architect, and on studying his music one realises the need to take care of architecture and form – otherwise the edifice can collapse. One always feels the huge influence of his devout Catholicism, which was almost fanatical, and this last symphony of his was dedicated to his ‘beloved God’.
I put this work alongside the ninth symphonies of Beethoven and Mahler. In the third movement of the Beethoven, I hear the composer having a mystical, sacred conversation with God; as Mahler’s Ninth progresses, we hear his doubts – the dissonances, both beautiful and painful, and with so much sadness. Mahler brings us into his special place, but it is my feeling that he was not at peace with mortality. With Bruckner, the journey and the destination are very different. His message at the end – that simple, beautiful melody with the strings playing – is, ‘Don’t be afraid. I believe in God, salvation and peace in my heart.’ He had overcome many temptations and difficulties, but kept his faith. He was also a very self-critical person and tried to compose a fourth movement, but was, arguably, not able to complete it.
The transformation is from dissonance to paradise – this is a very different Bruckner, one we have never seen before
At the outset of the piece, the tremolo in the strings is answered by the horns, informing us that this is something important. The horns have other ideas, then they start a journey together. The opening is unusually agitated for Bruckner, but comforting too. The horn motif is very reminiscent of Wagner – not a quotation, but typical of late Bruckner. One by one, the motifs build and lead slowly but surely to their conclusion. The triple-forte statement is very strong, like words carved in stone. Here, Bruckner is a little bit scared of God too. The pizzicato with the woodwinds and the ensuing A major passage are like a discussion about what’s happened.
We sense Bruckner’s fascination with numbers – eight bars, then sometimes six or seven – and we feel the craftsmanship. Already we hear what Bruckner apparently thought was his finest music. He feels more confident than before, but still there are references to Wagner, as in earlier works. The fortes are huge and the stopped horns have a nightmarish, almost Mahlerian quality. For a conductor, there’s the dramaturgy of the caesura, the fermata on rests or on the bar line – and each must make their own decision. It’s very subjective.
The Trio is another surprise. It’s not the usual Ländler, but the most robust music Bruckner ever wrote, with pizzicatos, but also tutti, unison playing – reminiscent of a rock concert. Bruckner could be naive, lacking in confidence, but not here. Sometimes this movement reminds me of a Tchaikovsky ballet. Is he planning a joke? Are these angels? Birds? The music feels happy, robust.
The third-movement finale opens with a very emotional statement. There is a connection through the strings, to the trumpets, then the woodwind, then heaven itself. The first seven bars feel like giving one’s hand to God, reaching up. The fortissimo could be music from heaven, not soft, but majestic, not aggressive. This glimpse into paradise is repeated later. A beautiful theme on the horns and Wagner tubas, very slow, very solemn, is so fulfilling. This is not painful in the Mahler fashion, but calming, hugging.
At letter F we hear the architect again, speeding up, a dialogue between trumpets and woodwind. Then at letter M, a procession like in a church, very majestic. The big question mark comes just before letter R – a triple-forte and very dissonant. Then there’s a long pause to digest the dissonance. Were we too happy? Have we felt the anger of God? Of evil spirits? It’s not a collapsing of all the beauty, however, more a reminder that evil is always there. Then he continues as the movement began, with a dialogue between horns and woodwind. Only five pages remain: horns, Wagner tubas, woodwind – a diminuendo to piano. The transformation has been from dissonance to paradise, and Bruckner has been our guide. This is a very different Bruckner, one we have never seen before. Despite the question surrounding a fourth-movement finale, this piece feels complete to me.
Interview by Michael McManus
This article originally appeared in the January 2024 issue of Gramophone. Never miss an issue of the world's leading classical music magazine – subscribe today