Orchestrating the almighty
‘Hammerklavier’ is a task not to be
taken lightly. That Felix Weingartner
was himself a prolific composer surely
must have helped in his understanding
of Beethoven’s processes, and it certainly
is true that this sonata seems to go
beyond the capabilities of a keyboard
instrument - even modern Steinways,
never mind Beethoven’s piano. Yet the
work does lose that edge of danger.
The sense of strain, fear, panic, about
the perilous opening left-hand leap,
for pianists that don’t cheat, that
is! is lost here. It just sounds like
the orchestra does not start together,
with cellos and basses coming in early.
There is also textural weakening, some
cushioning of sonorities. A similar
effect came across when the Philharmonia
recently gave an unfortunately under-rehearsed
account of Weingartner’s orchestration
of Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge at
the RFH (http://www.musicweb-international.com/SandH/2001/Nov01/Pletnev_Beethoven.htm
), a wasted opportunity if ever there
was one.
Yet despite all this,
Weingartner’s recording remains fascinating
from first to last. There are some impressive
felicities of scoring with some amazing
shifts of colour around 8’40. What they
have to do with Beethoven is sometimes
beyond me, but fascinating they remain.
Where Weingartner’s ear for sonority
really kicks in is in the Adagio sostenuto
slow movement, painted in appropriately
black, bleak colours. Portamento in
this movement is present but undistracting,
and everywhere there is an underlay
of profound peace. Weingartner the orchestrator
and Weingartner the interpreter clearly
have fullest grasp of this movement,
and the playing of the Royal Philharmonic
positively glows in response. A pity
the Scherzo is far too hard-pressed.
Where’s the Beethovenian wit?, especially
at the very end!
Track 4 on this disc
begins at the transitory passage that
separates slow movement and Fugue -
no separate mark for the fugue itself,
which begins at 2’22. Here Weingartner
and his orchestra approach white-heat
at times. This orchestration clearly
meant much to the conductor. Passages
such as that at around 4’50 are quite
astonishing in their ferocity. Alas,
there is no way the final chords are
going to sound triumphal, indeed all-conquering,
in the manner they almost always do
when a single, valiant pianist gets
to the end.
Despite the various
caveats, do try to hear this. It is
a fascinating insight into Weingartner’s
mind and a window onto another era.
For some reason, I can imagine this
sitting well in a Prom programme in
future years …
Now let’s hear Weingartner
conducting Weingartner - there exist
recordings of Schäfers Sonntaglied
Op16/1, Frühlingsgespenster Op19/4,
(with Lucille Marcel, soprano), Der
Sturm - Scherzettino, amongst others,
all of which appear to have been available
in Japan (SGR8644, coupled with this
very ‘Hammerklavier’). It would be great
to have them over here - unless any
reader knows of a modern recording/European
issue?
The Prometheus
on this disc dates from November 1933
(the VPO 1936 version previously came
my way on EMI Great Conductors of the
20th Century 5 75 965-2 (http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2004/Apr04/Weingartner.htm
), an indispensable collection. The
LPO performance features a marvelously
flowing introduction and a main body
that is perhaps more playful than might
be expected.
The Fifth Symphony
here is that of early 1933, the last
of Weingartner’s four disc versions
(the version from March of the previous
year is on 8.110861: http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2003/Apr03/FelixWeingartner_Beethoven.htm
). There is a great sense of purpose
to this LPO reading. What today might
be seen as a slow tempo for the Allegro
con brio actually carries great power.
The repeat has an enormous point, enabling
the ‘fate’ opening to carry even greater
dramatic weight. It appears here as
almost interruptive to the music’s progress.
This is a blazing performance, unstoppable
in its momentum.
There is a similar
authoritative rightness to the Andante
con moto. True, there would be more
moto these days, yet what exquisitely
hones playing (listen to the cello shaping
at the outset, for example). Notable
also is the depth of the journey this
movement takes the listener on. The
underlying repeated note figure that
regularly recurs to add tension (try
around 3’08) is imbued with meaning
by Weingartner; around 7’30, the LPO
positively glows. All credit to Mark
Obert-Thorn’s restorative abilities
for enabling us to hear the tonal nuances
of this memorable reading.
The Scherzo has a natural
and inexorable flow, the Trio has real
gusto and energy. And listen to the
transition into the finale, where timpani
ominously and quietly tap away under
held strings that are truly senza
espressione. It is an unforgettable
effect and one that is at one with the
heightened drama of this moment. The
(repeatless) finale proper is born of
old-style grandeur (but how!).
A remarkable and fascinating
document of the utmost historical and
musical value. Obert-Thorn’s transfers
are impeccable. And at a fiver, there
is nothing to be lost in trying the
‘Hammerklavier’ for size. You just might
enjoy it.
Colin Clarke
aRoyal Philharmonic Orchestra, bcLondon
Philharmonic Orchestra/Felix Weingartner.