Funny how we pidgeonhole composers with buzzwords or catchphrases. Heroic seems to be the most commonly encountered adjective around Beethoven. That’s the accepted image of Ludwig van, as he storms against fate and writes majestic works that burst the boundaries of musical expression.
It’s not a bum rap by any means, but it’s incomplete. What about some other buzzwords: evocative, shimmering, luscious, colorful. Wouldn’t these be more properly applied to music by guys such as Debussy or Fauré or Ravel? But they’re part of the Beethoven lexicon as well. Nothing about Beethoven or his music disallows a reveling in tonal beauty and a desire to make beautiful sounds, and not just because those sounds are part of a well worked-out structure or are the result of brilliant motivic development. I’m talking here about good old opulent erotic sound, the stuff that makes your ears go "aaaahhhhh…." and provides pleasure just in and of itself.
Beethovenian beauty has been on my mind of late due to a current project as well as a splendid new CD that has come across my desk. My project: I’m performing the Sonata Op. 28, the "Pastoral", in January. Beethoven’s D Major sonata is surely one of his most lyrical works for solo piano—nary a mailed fist in sight—and also one of his most tonally imaginative. The very opening, with its pulsating low Ds, is unlike almost anything else in keyboard music:
The score above comes from the Urtext prepared by Heinrich Schenker for Universal Edition. Beethoven’s own manuscript leaves the actual performance style of those low Ds up for grabs: they could be played lightly detachée, for example, or under a cloud of pedal, or whatever.
As a result, different editors have seen fit to add their two cents’ worth, as in this edition that prefers a long pedal with "not too staccato" on the keys themselves.
This edition is similar, except that it really nails down that the three lightly staccato but pedalled bass notes should be grouped by the measure.
Thus I need to figure out how I’m going to play that opening. But more to the point, the decision is mostly one about tone and sound, and not interpretation per se, with the proviso that only an utter dolt would fail to recognize that the first measure is the phrasal downbeat and the melody begins on the second phrasal beat—i.e., unaccented second measure with a slight emphasis on the A natural on the downbeat of measure 3.
Beethoven’s entire sonata is filled with beautiful washes of sound. In parts of the fourth movement it even comes off a bit like Fauré. Playing the "Pastoral" requires a sonic imagination, a willingness to indulge in copious tonal painting. Yet it’s Beethoven: Mr. Structure, Mr. Motivic Development, Mr. Pure Music. But it’s still music, and thus it’s still sound, and a love of beautiful sound enhances Beethoven just as much as it does Debussy.
I can hear that kind of thinking in the latest release from the splendid Budapest Festival Orchestra, under the inimitable direction of Iván Fischer, on Channel Classics. If you haven’t discovered the BFO, then may I strongly urge you to bolt to your nearest supplier, be that a record store or Amazon or ArkivMusic or iTunes or Passionato or anybody else who carries Channel Classics, a Rolls-Royce marque amongst record labels. In an era filled with uncertainty, the success of this young orchestra—and its stratospherically-high musical standards—is a delightful thing to behold. For 2010, the BFO gives us the fourth and sixth symphonies of Beethoven, adding to a superb seventh from a few years ago. One might think that we have more than enough Beethoven symphonies on the market, with stellar recent cycles from Vanska/Minnesota and Zinman/Zurich to add to classics from Berlin, Vienna, and Cleveland, but there will always be room for performances this good, in recordings this fine. At the highest level of achievement, nothing is ever passé, overdone, or overfamiliar.
The Budapest Festival Orchestra impresses me as being very much in the Dresden/Amsterdam mold, which is to say an orchestra that makes magic with tone. The BFO is perfectly capable of sizzling virtuosity—get a load of their Mahler 2 and 4, or the blistering Bartók Concerto for Orchestra from their early days—but in a lot ways I think they’re at their finest when playing music that requires sonic imagination and tonal sensitivity. (For that reason, I think they would rival the Dresdeners were they to bless us with some Schubert.) I have never been as ravished by the Beethoven Sixth (Pastoral) than via this new recording. Beethoven’s scoring goes heavy on winds, light on brass, and the slightly pungent, almost French-sounding, winds of the BFO make the most of those wonderfully piquant sounds. The orchestra used an unusual seating arrangement for this Sixth, mixing the winds and brass together throughout the orchestra, and the results are fascinating. For one thing, you’re never sure just where a flute or oboe or whatnot is going to appear—not necessarily huddled around the center and a bit rearwards, as is typically the case. But it’s not gimmickry; the resultant wash of sound is highly appealing, especially in this most acoustically imaginative of symphonies. During the storm scene, the sudden emergence of the piccolo in the high center-right of the orchestra is downright shocking, while the overall wide spacing of the orchestra envelops you with sound.
It’s worth mentioning that they have chosen to use natural horns and trumpets for the Fourth Symphony, imparting a rich sheen to the brass: at first, it might sound as though the instruments are slightly out of tune, but the more you listen the more you realize you’re hearing a real, live, honest brassy texture—sort of like eating a heritage turkey after years of those bland supermarket affairs. The instruments sound more…well…organic in a sense, i.e., more like breathing brass instruments than the pouffed and coiffed blends of so many contemporary orchestras. That isn’t to say that there is anything particularly HIP-ish about this performance; it’s a fully modern orchestra. But it doesn’t sound like every other orchestra on the block, either—a virtue this CD shares with Zinman’s ear-popping rendition with the Tonhalle Zurich.
The CD is one of those hybrid SACD-CD affairs, but you don’t need a surround system to experience a rich dimensionality. This is a recording in which the engineers match the performers in artistry. Heck: everything about this CD simply drips with class; the jacket is exquisite, the liner notes intelligent and entertaining, even the silkscreened CD itself represents imaginative graphic design. It’s a premium product (more expensive than your everyday CD) but worth every penny. That’s true of all the BFO/Channel Classics releases; this has to be one of the best pairings of orchestra to record label in history.
Beethoven the sensualist, Beethoven the tonal wizard, Beethoven the tone painter. The terms fit: boy, do they fit.
The BFO’s latest release: Beethoven in all his opulent glory