Individually
74321 63645-2 (Nos 1/2) AmazonUK
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74321 59214-2 (Nos 3/4) AmazonUK
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74321 49695-2 (Nos 5/6) AmazonUK
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74321 56341-2 (Nos 7/8) AmazonUK
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74321 65411-2 (No 9) AmazonUK
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These celebrated performances
have been universally welcomed by critics
of every persuasion, and praised for
their freshness, their polish, and their
scholarly approach. Hearing them again
persuades me to salute them as, in many
ways, the ideal recording of this much-recorded
repertory: the one which most perfectly
integrates old-school weight and dynamism
with the lessons we've all learnt, since
the 1980s, from historically-informed
original-instrument performances.
Using the Jonathan
Del Mar Urtext edition, published by
Bärenreiter, these performances
steal the occasional surprise on an
unsuspecting listener, with some notes
and numerous articulations notably at
variance with traditional texts. But
we mustn't make the mistake of imagining
that this gives them some kind of biblical
authority. As ever in Beethoven - as
ever in all music - the conductor
needs to decipher the composer's instructions,
or lack of them, make sense of often-conflicting
information, and provide his own bowing,
his own dynamics and his own phrasing.
And Zinman's obviously worked overtime
to ensure that, in the spirit of Del
Mar's edition, we hear exactly what
Beethoven wanted us to hear.
Of course Zinman's
not alone in prizing that objective.
The challenge in conducting Beethoven
is deciding what's most important in
any one situation. Dynamics have to
be perpetually adjusted - most commonly,
noisy trumpets and horns need to be
piped down to enable more fragile voices,
but more important information, to penetrate.
And, commonly, making this kind of adjustment
in favour of thematic detail ruins the
effect of an all-important climax. Too
often in Beethoven, the interpreter
will have to settle for 'loud' - i.e.
as loud as the composer appears to have
wanted it - or 'clear' - i.e. significant
detail being audible - but accept that
it can't always be both. It may appear
to be outrageously controversial to
say so but in fact it's stating the
truth, and indeed the obvious, that,
when writing for the orchestra, Beethoven's
workmanship was often crude - certainly
his finishing, and his attention to
detail or everyday practicalities.
Zinman's formula is
to balance textures in such a way that
we are able to follow the argument without
sacrificing weight or excitement. The
modest size of his orchestra enables
him to do this, but it mainly comes
down to making inspired decisions in
resolving the innumerable enigmas and
dilemmas Beethoven leaves us with. With
hardly any exceptions (the Fifth Symphony,
perhaps, but more about this later)
it's all gain and no loss.
What you always
get in these performances is excellent
orchestral playing, incisive articulation,
carefully voiced textures, a cracking
pace, and agreeable surprises here there
and everywhere. Over and over again,
phrases are shaped in a novel way, note
lengths are unlike we've heard them
before, and woodwinds are left to ornament
a once-familiar line: the solo oboe
free-time links in the first movements
of the Fifth and Seventh, for example,
are extended into mini-cadenzas, and
most persuasively done. These are invariably
arresting performances - powerful, without
being heavyweight. My copious notes
repeatedly include words like agile,
athletic, sprightly, alive,
youthful, vigorous and
energetic.
In one area of potential
controversy - his widespread adoption
of fast tempi - Zinman is by no means
alone among modern recorded performances.
The first movement of the Third is startlingly
quick, but it differs from most others
that are similarly rapid (Bernstein's
inspired CBS/NYPO performance, for example,
or even the celebrated [Erich] Kleiber
mono recording on Decca with the Vienna
Philharmonic) in finding room to shape
phrases, and to breathe, despite the
sheer pace. The Allegretto slow
movement of the Seventh is - you may
think, as I am tempted to… - hurried
to the point of sounding casual, of
belittling a great statement. Similarly,
perhaps, the slow movement of the Ninth,
which, however beautiful, surely loses
expressive composure at this pace. But
this is becoming the norm nowadays,
and no longer exceptional! The most
notable beneficiaries of this approach
are the scherzos of all symphonies.
That in the Fifth works particularly
well, with an agility and fleetness
of foot which is most infectious: those
in the Sixth and Seventh are outstandingly
alive. However, the one-in-a-bar trios
of the scherzos in both the Seventh
and the Ninth are truly hectic, and
even I find these difficult to accept.
It's worth remembering
that the metronome wasn't invented until
1811 or thereabouts - the slow movement
of the Eighth celebrates it, remember
- and that Beethoven's markings dating
from the years of his advancing deafness
are mostly retrospective. I'm not the
first person to question their 'authority'!
One curious aspect
of Zinman's conducting deserves a special
mention. Horns and trumpets in Beethoven's
day weren't chromatic instruments, because
they pre-date the invention of the valve.
In fact the long solo for the 4th[!]
horn in the Ninth's slow movement is
a marker, if you like, for that seminal
transition between diatonic 18th century
brass and chromatic 19th century brass!
So they played only the notes of the
harmonic series - tonics, dominants,
triads - like the Eroica's first
movement main theme - and what-have-you,
plus a few others, mostly higher up
the pitch range, which were out of tune,
and had to be hand-stopped to bring
them into line - a technique which drastically
impaired the instrument's tonal character
and polish, especially in forte
and fortissimo. Whereas Mahler
(among others) used stopped horns for
special and usually menacing effect,
hand-horn players in Beethoven's day
tried to disguise such stopped notes
so that listeners would be largely unaware
of the difference between 'natural'
(i.e. open, or normal) and 'un-natural'
(i.e. stopped, or adjusted) notes -
as, for example, in Gardiner's or Norrington's
CD recordings with their 'original instrument'
orchestras. Zinman, with his modern
instruments, recognises this characteristic
by, for me, eccentrically, encouraging
his players to modify notes outside
the harmonic series with a full Mahlerian
stopped tone, rather than the subtle
adaptation you'd get from a seasoned
hand-horn player. This makes for alarming
tonal discrepancies, often in the middle
of a phrase, and for no good other than
nominally technical reason.
A few highlights. The
trills in the Second's slow introduction
are as you've never heard them before
- tremendous fun, and doubtless the
result of painstaking rehearsal! The
last movement of the Seventh is breathlessly
energetic: it sweeps you away! The hilarious
discourse of upper and lower strings
at the beginning of the development
section, where Beethoven throws us completely
off tonal course, speaks to us like
a spontaneous comic recitative - tremendously
involving, and wholly convincing! The
Eighth - Beethoven's 'little' symphony
- is full of good humour, emerging very
fittingly as a chamber symphony, and
enlightened by all manner of touches
and affectionate detail. How refreshing,
especially after Gardiner's relentless,
almost merciless, approach, which seems
increasingly to be the done thing these
days. In the 'introduction' to the Ninth,
how nice to hear genuine sextuplets,
clearly annunciated: no Brucknerian
tremolos here!
May be the Fifth works
least well. It's athletic and manly,
but it has a lightness of touch which
we don't associate with this hard-hitting
historic statement. The amount of detail
Zinman brings out enables us to hear
it afresh - indeed we are made to realise
what we so often miss! - so we shouldn't
rule it out of court simply because
it lacks the Klemperian weight we expect
of it. To compare it with the classic
[Carlos] Kleiber/VPO Fifth - which I've
always been tempted to regard as definitive
- is to compare Olympic sprinters and
Olympic weight-lifters.
The Ninth makes for
a strong conclusion to the set, but
it perhaps lacks the grandeur of more
traditional performances. It's powerful,
meticulously prepared, and deeply committed,
but it doesn't belong in the mighty
Klemperer-Karajan dynasty. That will
be a plus point to some, and a minus
point to others. The young-sounding
soloists are excellent as a quartet,
especially the soprano, but aren't ideal
in their solo numbers: the tenor sounds
breathless and lightweight at Zinman's
pace, and the bass is hardly commanding
enough at his entry to be credible as
a silencer of the orchestra's din. The
chorus is excellent.
By the way, Arte Nova
gives you two versions of the Ninth's
finale. The alternative includes a G.P.
bar (General Pause) before the word
"Bruder", which Beethoven later and
mysteriously removed. Not a big deal,
I'd say. Personally, I wish Beethoven
had left revised versions of all nine
symphonies, with answers to all the
interpretative questions we've spent
180 years grappling with! (Only joking:
what sort of a music-lover's world would
it be where all Beethoven symphony recordings
were the same?)
The discs are all available
singly, as detailed above. In fact buying
the set only entails a cardboard box
containing the five individual CDs,
complete with their separate booklets.
If you're wanting just a First and a
Second, I'd say this is the one. It
perfectly portrays a growing composer
bursting confidently out of the gates
of the 18th century, and into a dawning
new age. The two finest performances
of the set, the Third and the Fourth,
are paired on a single disc, which embraces
every human emotion, and speaks with
a uniquely authoritative voice. The
Eroica boasts a mighty first
movement, a solemn Funeral March, a
nimble Scherzo (with wonderful horn
playing) and a grandly-conceived variation
finale. The Fourth has explosive energy
without ever being overstated, and (in
its slow movement) some of the most
tender playing in the entire cycle.
Take it from me: there is no better
Beethoven symphony disc than this in
the recorded music catalogues of all
time!
This set deserves the
most enthusiastic recommendation which
words can muster. It has few rivals
even in the top price range. The most
recent Abbado? Certainly the Gardiner.
And the Vänskä Minnesota set,
when (if ever) it's complete, will take
some beating. In its price range, the
Drahos (on Naxos) is good, but not quite
in this league: likewise the Norrington,
now available on Virgin for silly money,
and very tempting. But Zinman is
Beethoven: I can pay him no greater
compliment.
Peter J Lawson
Ruth Ziesak (soprano), Birgit Remmert (alto),
Steve Davislim (tenor), Detlef Roth (bass) 
