Traditionally the penultimate
night of the Proms has been reserved for Beethoven’s Choral Symphony, not an inappropriate
choice since the work received its London premiere at a Royal Philharmonic
Society concert in 1825 and was announced as having been ‘composed expressly
for this Society’. Furthermore Schiller’s Ode
to Joy, with its ideals of the universal
brotherhood of man, encapsulates the inclusive spirit of the Proms themselves.
However, having already been performed earlier in the season by the National
Youth Orchestra of Great Britain under Vassily Petrenko, this year alternative
plans were the order of the day and Bruckner’s grandest symphony is – or should
be – a special event.
On paper the idea of having
the Vienna Philharmonic and the
organist of St Florian prefacing it made perfect sense. After all, in 1871
Bruckner famously gave a series of organ concerts at the Royal Albert Hall and on
its day the Vienna Philharmonic is the World’s premier Bruckner orchestra,
effortlessly producing the true organ-like Bruckner sound, wide-bore brass
embedded in a rich string sound.
In the event, however, there
were some delicious ironies to this concert. As they say in Scotland,”the
best laid plans o’mice and men gang aft aglae (astray)’ and this was just such a
case. In the first place, the conductor of that earlier mentioned Proms
Beethoven 9th, Vassily Petrenko, had inadvertently contrived to put
both feet firmly in his mouth when he gave an unguarded interview questioning
the role of women conductors. an interview quickly picked up last week by
the Norwegian newspaper Aftenposten
where Petrenko has recently become the conductor of the Oslo Philharmonic
(which as one would expect in a Scandinavian country has a strong female
contingent). To add to the irony BBC 4 was showing this very concert on TV on
Friday evening simultaneously with their Radio 3 broadcast of the Vienna
Philharmonic’s Prom.
A further irony is that the
Vienna Philharmonic is almost parallel to the British Bullingdon Club as being
one the last preserves of male dominance. Yes, there are now a sprinkling of
women amongst its serried ranks but their number is quite disproportionately
small, probably five if we discount the two lady harpists. The usual excuse proffered
is that women’s sound does not gel with that of the rest of the players. Is the
Vienna Philharmonic really such a good orchestra that it can afford to close
itself off to half the World? Not, I would suggest, on the evidence of this
concert.
The ultimate irony or
‘kicker’, as they would say in the States, was that the following night for the
first time the Last Night of the Proms was to be conducted by a woman, Marin
Alsop, whose inclusive sentiments clearly chimed with those of the majority of
Prommers; without mentioning any names, her Last Night closing speech took the
gentlest of swipes at Petrenko’s unfortunate lapse but, like Ko-Ko’s little
list in The Mikado, we all knew to
whom she was referring (a generation ago
Beecham could get away with a little gentle misogyny because it was clearly at
least partially tongue in cheek but in today’s changed World what was just
about acceptable then really will not do).
Would that the ‘event’ had
been worthy of the occasion. As it was Klaus Sonnleitner started off in fine
style with Guilmant’s arrangement of the Prelude from the 3rd Partita
for solo violin. Guilmant is pictured in the programme playing the famous Cavaillé-Coll
organ at the Trocadéro in Paris
and this thunderous transcription sounded wonderfully imposing on the enormous Albert
Hall instrument. However, the intimate Chorale Preludes which followed were
less than ideal on such a large instrument and concentration was constantly distracted
by the admission of latecomers after each and every piece. At least the Prelude
and Fugue in A minor with which this mini organ recital closed injected more
fizz into the occasion, although one sensed that it was all a little like
trying to manoeuvre a soft suspension Cadillac around a Formula One racetrack.
With Bruckner 8 we come to the vexed question of
editions, Haas or Nowak. Frankly in my opinion there is no right or wrong here.
Many great conductors have come to differing conclusions, Giulini Nowak,
Karajan Haas and some even performing both versions. For good measure Klemperer
(who gave the UK
premiere and whom I once heard conduct it in 1970) even made substantial cuts
in the Finale, writing in the programme note “Brucknerians will object, and it
is certainly not my intention that these cuts should be taken as a model for
others. I can only take responsibility for my own interpretation”. Personally
after hearing around 20 live performances I prefer Haas because it seems to me
that the rolling climaxes of the slow movement where Bruckner builds to a
climax, falls back and then builds to an even greater one, cumulate more
effectively in Haas. Boulez – who recorded the piece live in St Florian’s with
the Vienna Philharmonic – also opts for Haas because it seems to him that the
cuts in the Nowak are unnecessary: “They destroy the symmetry, logic and
structure”. However, the only thing that ultimately counts is “does it work” and
there are performances of Nowak, such as Giulini’s recorded one with the Vienna
Philharmonic, which work magnificently.
Maazel too opted for Nowak
(he too has recorded the piece with the Berlin Philharmonic and the Bavarian
Radio Symphony). Timings can prove a distraction in Bruckner. Actual tempi are
generally not the real issue although there are obviously parameters beyond
which it is difficult to make the
music work, just as with a singer there are tempi so distended that it becomes
impossible effectively to phrase. What is more important is establishing and
maintaining a line and a forward momentum. If this is lost, as here, a Bruckner
symphony becomes a very long listen and plays into the hands of his detractors.
Of course the Vienna
Philharmonic intuitively produce an echt Bruckner
sound but this was a very long listen indeed. To put this in context,
performing Haas, the longer of the two versions in the not dissimilar acoustic
of St Florian, Boulez and the same orchestra took 76 minutes whereas Maazel
with Nowak here took nearly 90. Even Gunter Wand performing the symphony with
the NDR orchestra in Edinburgh’s
Usher Hall only just about succeeded in sustaining the work at this duration
but in the words of the Duke of Wellington of Waterloo it was a damn close run
thing. Put bluntly, and hampered by some fairly fallible playing, including at
one point a hiatus such as one seldom hears with a professional orchestra,
Maazel did not.
At this point it is worth
quoting from Robert Simpson’s book The Essence
of Bruckner (1967) when he writes of the symphony: “The Eighth is the first
full upshot of matters hitherto hidden in under-currents and only
intermittently allowed to erupt. But it eventually reveals its true
background in the Finale, the background
in a sense of Bruckner’s life-work, a
contemplative magnificence beyond the battle. The Finale is not so much a
victory over tribulation as a state which had to be found behind it, slowly and
sometimes painfully uncovered by the Adagio”. There is a pervasive unease and when the
floodgates finally open in the Finale’s Coda the victory has been hard won.
By no stretch of the
imagination could the opening movement in Maazel’s hands be described as Allegro moderato, more like a slow-motion dance by Titans, the music
precisely observed but experienced as though from a safe distance, that state
of simmering unease palpably absent; that said, there were of course memorable
moments such as the leave-taking paragraph’s fade into silence where Maazel’s
ability to control detail paid dividends. At least the deutsche Michel Scherzo - also incidentally marked Allegro moderato - came off better although
Bruckner’s obsessive repetitions at its climax hardly elicited that gradual but
perceptible tightening of tension which makes for an effective resolution and
there were dynamic markings - such as the cellos' sudden shift from mf to f in the fifth bar or the trombones punched-out accent immediately at
the climax before T - which lost their piquancy.
The magnificent Adagio is
marked solemnly and slowly doch nicht
schleppend which roughly translates as ‘not dragged’. Dragged it certainly
was here as though a slow tempo equated with profundity, but unfortunately
problems inherent in adopting a very slow tempo then arise as the movement
progresses once one gets to ritardandi or
passages marked simply Langsam. Where
do you go? Of course Maazel – conducting from memory – has a near Pope like
infallibility when it comes to controlling texture and getting what he wants
but whether what he wants is the right thing is sometimes open to question; for
instance the slight holding back at the movement’s climax seemed to indicate
that he did not trust the moment to make its full impact without additional
pleading.
The Finale brought a magnificent
unfurling of brass sound at the outset – is there anywhere better to hear this
music than in the vastness of the Royal Albert Hall – but the movement as a
whole poses very particular problems, its contrasting episodes needing a firm
hand if it is not to sound merely episodic and bring the ship safely home. If
the movement lacks that patient and gradual build-up of tensions, the final
torrential outpouring of the Coda – Bruckner at his most Wagnerian in this most
Wagner-oriented of years – fails to make its full overwhelming impact. Along
the way there was some surprisingly fallible playing, surprising in this great
orchestra, especially when led by someone as technically competent as Maazel.
Perhaps the orchestra needs an injection of new (possibly female) blood. Too
often this sounded uncomfortably like the Vienna Philharmonic on auto-pilot.
Bach Organ music
Bruckner Symphony No 8 in C minor (1890 version, ed. Nowak)
Klaus Sonnleitner (organ)
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
Lorin Maazel (conductor)