Beethoven Choral Symphony
View record and artist detailsRecord and Artist Details
Composer or Director: Ludwig van Beethoven
Label: Eminence
Magazine Review Date: 12/1991
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 61
Mastering:
DDD
Catalogue Number: CD-EMX2186
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| Symphony No. 9, 'Choral' |
Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer
Bryn Terfel, Bass-baritone Charles Mackerras, Conductor Della Jones, Mezzo soprano Joan Rodgers, Soprano Liverpool Philharmonic Choir Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer Peter Bronder, Tenor Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra |
Composer or Director: Ludwig van Beethoven
Label: Eminence
Magazine Review Date: 12/1991
Media Format: Cassette
Media Runtime: 0
Mastering:
DDD
Catalogue Number: TC-EMX2186
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| Symphony No. 9, 'Choral' |
Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer
Bryn Terfel, Bass-baritone Charles Mackerras, Conductor Della Jones, Mezzo soprano Joan Rodgers, Soprano Liverpool Philharmonic Choir Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer Peter Bronder, Tenor Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra |
Author: Stephen Johnson
''The object of this performance,'' says Sir Charles Mackerras, ''is to represent Beethoven's Ninth Symphony rather than Wagner's.'' He's not the first to attempt such a thing: the same remark would neatly sum up most of what Roger Norrington said on the subject in interview for Gramophone (4/89). Before Wagner gets cast irrevocably as the villain of the story, it ought to be said that no one in the nineteenth century campaigned as vigorously or as consistently on behalf of the Choral Symphony as he did, and that his writings on the subject contain many brilliant and still challenging insights. Even so it looks as though the post-Wagnerian vision of the Ninth has had its day, and the movement towards something new is gaining momentum. First came the period instruments brigade—the ''guerrillas'' as RO once described them; then last month Nikolaus Harnoncourt's ancient-meets-modern cycle (Teldec/Warner Classics) signalled a whole range of new possibilities—the second blast of the trumpet perhaps, but if anything still more stirring than the first.
Now we have this: an orchestra and a chorus brought up in the traditional grand manner, but directed by one of the most enquiring minds on the current musical circuit. The result may not be quite a performance that ''lives dangerously'' (AB's verdict on the Harnoncourt Cosi fan tutte last month), but it is still one of the freshest, most convincingly rethought Ninths to appear in some while. Much is made of the issue of metronome marks—they are even printed for the listener's benefit on the back of the disc. Mackerras isn't any more literal in his observation of them than Norrington, Hogwood or Harnoncourt: his basic pulse in the Adagio third movement for instance is a little below crotchet =60, but his understanding of the way the music flows strongly suggests that he has found the spirit within the letter. I love the way the Adagio's 12/8 variation dances—''winged ecstasy'' is Mackerras's own description and I couldn't agree more; and when taken at his mobile tempo the extraordinary quiet wind plus pizzicato strings variation doesn't flag at all—as it does in so many traditionally slow readings.
On the other hand it's interesting to see Mackerras taking issue with some of his scholarly predecessors on one or two points: dotted minim =84 may look pretty lively for the Alla marcia variation in the finale—but impossibly fast is much more like the Beethoven we know and love than impossibly slow, which is what happens when Norrington and Hogwood read the beat as a dotted crotchet. The speed Mackerras arrives at in performance is, interestingly enough, as near to the traditional norm as makes no difference, though it still sounds a good deal more alive and purposeful than in most recent recordings.
That last remark would do very well as a verdict on the performance as a whole. I do have reservations: the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Chorus's German pronunciation isn't exactly enthusiastic, despite their obvious feeling for the notes, and in the culminating solo quartet the traditional vibrato-rich sound still gives a touch of the palsy to Beethoven's ravishing slow counterpoint, however beautifully Joan Rodgers soars on high. Still, the journey there—and on to the abandoned prestissimo close—is compelling at every stage. Mackerras has evidently been thinking hard about 'period' style and how it may be applied to modern instruments, but there's nothing didactic about the end product. He doesn't cultivate quite the sharpness of feature of a Norrington or a Hogwood, nor does he match the inspired volatility of Harnoncourt (the Adagio's quasi-military climaxes could be more incisive), but his phrasing breathes fresh air. There's plenty of air in the textures too, and whenever the rhythms could possibly be made to dance, they do—not just in the scherzo, but for most of the first movement and for large stretches of the Adagio finale. The result is a Ninth which, if it doesn't blaze with the intensity of Toscanini of (more intermittently) Harnoncourt, still sounds as if it had to be made—all this plus excellent sound, on a mid-price label. Recommended to all but the terminally jaded.'
Now we have this: an orchestra and a chorus brought up in the traditional grand manner, but directed by one of the most enquiring minds on the current musical circuit. The result may not be quite a performance that ''lives dangerously'' (AB's verdict on the Harnoncourt Cosi fan tutte last month), but it is still one of the freshest, most convincingly rethought Ninths to appear in some while. Much is made of the issue of metronome marks—they are even printed for the listener's benefit on the back of the disc. Mackerras isn't any more literal in his observation of them than Norrington, Hogwood or Harnoncourt: his basic pulse in the Adagio third movement for instance is a little below crotchet =60, but his understanding of the way the music flows strongly suggests that he has found the spirit within the letter. I love the way the Adagio's 12/8 variation dances—''winged ecstasy'' is Mackerras's own description and I couldn't agree more; and when taken at his mobile tempo the extraordinary quiet wind plus pizzicato strings variation doesn't flag at all—as it does in so many traditionally slow readings.
On the other hand it's interesting to see Mackerras taking issue with some of his scholarly predecessors on one or two points: dotted minim =84 may look pretty lively for the Alla marcia variation in the finale—but impossibly fast is much more like the Beethoven we know and love than impossibly slow, which is what happens when Norrington and Hogwood read the beat as a dotted crotchet. The speed Mackerras arrives at in performance is, interestingly enough, as near to the traditional norm as makes no difference, though it still sounds a good deal more alive and purposeful than in most recent recordings.
That last remark would do very well as a verdict on the performance as a whole. I do have reservations: the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Chorus's German pronunciation isn't exactly enthusiastic, despite their obvious feeling for the notes, and in the culminating solo quartet the traditional vibrato-rich sound still gives a touch of the palsy to Beethoven's ravishing slow counterpoint, however beautifully Joan Rodgers soars on high. Still, the journey there—and on to the abandoned prestissimo close—is compelling at every stage. Mackerras has evidently been thinking hard about 'period' style and how it may be applied to modern instruments, but there's nothing didactic about the end product. He doesn't cultivate quite the sharpness of feature of a Norrington or a Hogwood, nor does he match the inspired volatility of Harnoncourt (the Adagio's quasi-military climaxes could be more incisive), but his phrasing breathes fresh air. There's plenty of air in the textures too, and whenever the rhythms could possibly be made to dance, they do—not just in the scherzo, but for most of the first movement and for large stretches of the Adagio finale. The result is a Ninth which, if it doesn't blaze with the intensity of Toscanini of (more intermittently) Harnoncourt, still sounds as if it had to be made—all this plus excellent sound, on a mid-price label. Recommended to all but the terminally jaded.'
Beethoven Choral Symphony
Beethoven Choral Symphony
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