May
I start by making a plea? No music, and certainly
not music from the programme of a (classical) music DVD
on the ‘Menu’ page. In his Reith lectures this year, Daniel
Barenboim mentioned being forced to listen, in the elevator,
to some tinned version of music he was due to conduct that
same evening. Some orchestral tuning or hall ambience would
do just fine. Having a choice chunk of Beethoven popping
out like Nielsen’s underwear just as you are preparing
to enjoy the whole concert on your nice new DVD is not
much different to the great Mr. Barenboim’s lift experience,
so, please, don’t…
This
is, without doubt, a special recording of a very special
bunch of musicians. The Lucerne Festival Orchestra is hand-picked
each year, and in 2005 it included all four members of
the Hagen Quartet, the second violins were led by Gerhard
Schulz of the Alban Berg Quartet. Woodwinds included clarinettist
Sabine Meyer and her entire Bläserensemble, the principal
oboist of the Berlin Philharmonic Albrecht Meyer, and Jacques
Zoon on first flute just to name but a few. An all-star
cast isn’t always a guarantee of grand success, but in
this case the entire orchestra shimmers with superior musicianship.
The
technical aspects of the recording can easily be dealt
with. There is no fuss or tricky camera work: this is a
straightforwardly excellent registration of the concert.
The auditorium camera zooms in on Brendel’s hands during
the Beethoven, revealing plasters on each forefinger. Abbado
isn’t as tall as I had thought – even on his podium his
head barely pops over the top of the raised piano lid as
the lens zeros in on the soloist. Orchestral solos are
selected in the usual way throughout, showing all of the
variety of concentrated intensity manifested by the various
famous musicians present. It truly often seems like more
of a chamber music experience than an orchestral one, and
this is another of those aspects in this performance which
makes it a cut above the usual. A nice touch is the backward
sweep which gives a view from behind the violin’s desks
at the back, giving you the feeling that you are sitting
in the orchestra. Cameras raised in the balconies show
the forests of strings in the Bruckner in all their glory,
and there is a lovely ‘Sykes’ close-up of the bass tuba’s
huge valves in action. All the while the great maestro
Abbado shapes each phrase with lovingly expressive gestures.
There is hardly a conventional beat to be seen (especially
in the slow movements), but to the professional musician
he is telling them all they need to know.
The
Beethoven is a glorious reading, but I had the feeling
that Abbado is getting closer to Klemperer in his tempi – especially
in the first Allegro con brio movement, which comes
over more ‘Andante’ at times. Don’t get me wrong, it works
on its own terms and as a live performance it would have
had all the drama and impact necessary to wow the Festival
audience. Reading the booklet notes, I can’t help feeling
that everyone is being just a little polite: ‘Abbado adopted
an elastic and yet intense approach… producing textures
that were trenchantly articulated and eloquent. “For all
that it sounded powerful,” wrote the Neue Züricher Zeitung, “this
was not achieved by means of titanic gestures but was shaped
right down to the very last detail and as a result was
filled with vibrant energy.”’ Brendel is on good form,
and with the warmth and eloquence of both soloist and orchestra
you can’t really go far wrong.
The
main item is of course Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony. This
is a beautifully rounded performance in every sense. From
the silkily shimmering strings, through the superb woodwind
solos and choruses and the full, mellow brass, the orchestra
seems to have been put on the earth to play this piece
alone, just as only one expanse of canvas was destined
to carry Gericault’s ‘The Raft of the “Medusa.”’ Abbado
doesn’t wallow in over-expansive tempi, and in fact his
pacing of each movement reflects that ‘chamber music’ aspect
of the musicianship on show, providing a momentum which
makes the piece seem almost too short for the expressive
qualities in both the playing and the music itself. As
the booklet notes suggest, ‘it all seems utterly spontaneous,’ and
as a result I for one felt as if I was almost hearing the
piece for the first time. I’ve had my doubts as to my honest
feelings about Bruckner, but in this case the jaw-dropping
wonder of it all had me and all my ducts engaged and enthralled.
Isn’t that what we’re all after – that feeling of renewal
and joyous discovery? It is here, in spades.
Dominy Clements
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