Beethoven Symphony No. 7
View record and artist detailsRecord and Artist Details
Composer or Director: Ludwig van Beethoven, Claude Debussy, John Addison, Charles-François Gounod, Camille Saint-Saëns, Felix Mendelssohn, (composers) Various
Label: BBC Music Legends/IMG Artists
Magazine Review Date: 7/1999
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 75
Mastering:
Mono
ADD
Catalogue Number: BBCL4012-2
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| National Anthems, Movement: GREAT BRITAIN: God save the King/Queen (Anon) |
(composers) Various, Composer
(composers) Various, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| (Die) Schöne Melusine |
Felix Mendelssohn, Composer
Felix Mendelssohn, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| Carte blanche |
John Addison, Composer
John Addison, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| Symphony No. 7 |
Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer
Ludwig van Beethoven, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| Samson et Dalila, Movement: Danse des prêtresses de Dagon |
Camille Saint-Saëns, Composer
Camille Saint-Saëns, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| (L') Enfant prodigue, Movement: Cortège et air de danse |
Claude Debussy, Composer
Claude Debussy, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
| Roméo et Juliette, 'Romeo and Juliet', Movement: Le sommeil de Juliette |
Charles-François Gounod, Composer
Charles-François Gounod, Composer Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Thomas Beecham, Conductor |
Author:
A letter in the May edition expresses amazement at Gramophone’s ‘hysterical adulation’ of Beecham recordings, and while it is reassuring to know, in a publication whose brief to its reviewers is a considered, analytical and detailed approach to the subject, that one might be given to hysteria of any kind, it is probably not warranted here. I should stress the ‘probably’. Not being old enough to have experienced the value of a Beecham concert in the 1950s, this issue (an almost complete concert, recorded in clean and informative mono sound) allows me to witness a very special kind of musical camaraderie – a circle of colleagues with a clear consensus on the good things in life, and musicians with the wit and wherewithal to make the most of them. One has to think hard for a comparable cult-like bonding of music, conductor, players and audience in latter-day London’s orchestral life (I should definitely stress ‘London’s’). Possibly Gunter Wand’s Bruckner at the Proms.
Back in December 1986, reviewing a reissued collection of commercially recorded Beecham favourites, Trevor Harvey wrote ‘it was generally accepted by those who heard Sir Thomas that he never quite transferred to the studio the spell he so regularly cast in the concert hall.’ And listening to this live Beethoven Seventh in tandem with the EMI Studio stereo recording, made in the preceding months (8/89 – nla), rather proves the point. The remark Beecham made to a studio colleague on listening to the playback of the third movement – ‘it’s like a load of yaks jumping about; what can you do with it?’ – may seem like a familiar incidence of his debunking wit. Equally likely, given Beecham’s penchant for inflecting the line and varying emphases, is that it expresses a concern that he had not yet found what he considered to be an ideal presentation. In the presence of an audience here, he appears to find the solution … on the job. Within seconds of the opening, he challenges his players to a faster tempo, and they in turn react with keener reflexes (tighter ensemble, crisper attack and greater extremes of dynamics). In short, it becomes a genuinely propulsive Presto. No yaks permitted. And there are comparable gains in the preceding Allegretto; the extra fluency helping to integrate the copious inflexion which stood out in the studio recording as needlessly manipulative. The result, to my ears, is sublime.
It is not all gain. Possible irritants include Beecham, mid-performance, noisily hushing his players and tapping time with his baton on the music stand. And the trade-off for a fast and very exciting ride in the Beethoven finale is an often smeared delivery of the much-repeated three-note semiquaver figure. Less of a problem nowadays is that Beecham’s Beethoven is not solidly grounded or grandly sounded in the tradition of some of his contemporary ‘old masters’. In fact, it has more in common with the rude health and momentary incident of up-to-date Beethoven – not forgetting, of course, the contrasting inimitable Beecham elegance, a wonderful example of which is the poised launching of the first-movement recapitulation.
At this point, and many others, principal oboe Terence MacDonagh’s star shines brightly. And the value of John Addison’s ballet suite – from 1953 and innocuous period fun; sort of sub-Britten and Shostakovich in divertissement mode – lies in the solo party-turns it affords Beecham’s wonderfully distinctive hand-picked players. Finally, there are the ‘lollipop’ encores; typical Beecham seductions, with entertainingly grumpy comments from conductor to audience in between.
A good time was, and should now continue to be, had by all.JS
Back in December 1986, reviewing a reissued collection of commercially recorded Beecham favourites, Trevor Harvey wrote ‘it was generally accepted by those who heard Sir Thomas that he never quite transferred to the studio the spell he so regularly cast in the concert hall.’ And listening to this live Beethoven Seventh in tandem with the EMI Studio stereo recording, made in the preceding months (8/89 – nla), rather proves the point. The remark Beecham made to a studio colleague on listening to the playback of the third movement – ‘it’s like a load of yaks jumping about; what can you do with it?’ – may seem like a familiar incidence of his debunking wit. Equally likely, given Beecham’s penchant for inflecting the line and varying emphases, is that it expresses a concern that he had not yet found what he considered to be an ideal presentation. In the presence of an audience here, he appears to find the solution … on the job. Within seconds of the opening, he challenges his players to a faster tempo, and they in turn react with keener reflexes (tighter ensemble, crisper attack and greater extremes of dynamics). In short, it becomes a genuinely propulsive Presto. No yaks permitted. And there are comparable gains in the preceding Allegretto; the extra fluency helping to integrate the copious inflexion which stood out in the studio recording as needlessly manipulative. The result, to my ears, is sublime.
It is not all gain. Possible irritants include Beecham, mid-performance, noisily hushing his players and tapping time with his baton on the music stand. And the trade-off for a fast and very exciting ride in the Beethoven finale is an often smeared delivery of the much-repeated three-note semiquaver figure. Less of a problem nowadays is that Beecham’s Beethoven is not solidly grounded or grandly sounded in the tradition of some of his contemporary ‘old masters’. In fact, it has more in common with the rude health and momentary incident of up-to-date Beethoven – not forgetting, of course, the contrasting inimitable Beecham elegance, a wonderful example of which is the poised launching of the first-movement recapitulation.
At this point, and many others, principal oboe Terence MacDonagh’s star shines brightly. And the value of John Addison’s ballet suite – from 1953 and innocuous period fun; sort of sub-Britten and Shostakovich in divertissement mode – lies in the solo party-turns it affords Beecham’s wonderfully distinctive hand-picked players. Finally, there are the ‘lollipop’ encores; typical Beecham seductions, with entertainingly grumpy comments from conductor to audience in between.
A good time was, and should now continue to be, had by all.
Beethoven Symphony No. 7
Discover the world's largest classical music catalogue with Presto Music.
Gramophone Digital Club
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £8.75 / month
Subscribe
Gramophone Full Club
- Print Edition
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £11.00 / month
Subscribe
If you are a library, university or other organisation that would be interested in an institutional subscription to Gramophone please click here for further information.