World peace was a particular concern of Bernstein. Speaking at
Johns Hopkins University in
1980 and the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York in 1983, he described
his vision of global harmony. His Journey for Peace tour
to Athens and Hiroshima with
the European Community Orchestra in 1985 commemorated the 40th
anniversary of the first dropping of the atom bomb. In December
1989 Bernstein conducted the historic Berlin Celebration Concerts
on both sides of the Berlin Wall as it was being dismantled. The
concerts were unprecedented gestures of co-operation, the choral
singers representing the former East Germany and West Germany,
the orchestral players not only both halves of Germany but also
the four powers that had partitioned Berlin after World War II.
This is a recording of the concert which took place on Christmas
Day in the heart of a newly unified Berlin, and was very much Bernstein’s idea. He also stamps
his own individual imprimatur on the work, not only in his idiosyncratic
interpretation but also by his decision to suit the occasion to
change the crucial word Freude (Joy) to Freiheit
(Freedom) in Schiller’s Ode sung in the choral finale. It was
a touch of genius on Bernstein’s part.
The
performance, which was also relayed on a big screen to thousands
standing outside in the square in freezing temperatures, is
far from perfect, ensemble is often ragged as the cosmopolitan
players struggle to follow Bernstein’s far from clear beat.
Woodwinds have a distorted sense of intonation, largely due
to the wide disparity in their vibrato, and matters are not
helped by the doubling of each part. This problem highlights
the international nature of the orchestra, a collection of
virtuoso players of disparate techniques, training, and traditional
sounds ranging from Leningrad to London, and Munich to Paris, and given that the event was hurriedly organised, little
chance of compromise or adaptation. There are blunders which
would not get past a record producer in the studio, such as
false entries in the Andante maestoso section to the
words “Seid umschlungen Millionen! Diesem Kuss der ganzen
Welt”, which has tested the counting ability of every chorister
since 1823. Bernstein is a master theatricalist in his conducting;
he sweats, grimaces, smiles, swoons, leaps, and crouches,
his stick technique is at many points firm and decisive, at
others floppy and vague. Less than a year from death in October
1990, he has amazing energy for a man who has lived all life
in the fast lane, but, like Karajan, he is a consummate performer.
Between the first and second halves of the symphony (movements
two and three) there is a fair gap while the soloists come
on to no applause, as well as the now-required orchestral
piccolo and double bassoon players. Only after everyone has
settled down and there is complete silence, with the camera
on him from the midst of the orchestra, does Bernstein start?
No, he then proceeds to remove his scarlet-red handkerchief
from his tails top pocket and mop his sweat-covered face,
then closes his eyes for what seems, and is, an interminable
wait before proceeding into the Adagio. He has to be
the focal point of the performance at all times. The children
in the choir, trained to sing from memory while their adult
fellow-choristers have not, were Bernstein’s hope for the
future. Now young adults, hopefully they have not forgotten
that auspicious occasion, despite the fact that so much cynicism
and bitterness now exists in Germany. The
affluence of former West
Germany has now been diluted by having to share their wealth
with their reunited Eastern brothers and sisters, and it could
be that the impact of that occasion has lessened or, worse,
disappeared. The experience of watching and listening to this
performance will go some way to enable us all, German or non-German,
to relive those truly momentous days.
Christopher Fifield
BUY NOW
AmazonUK
AmazonUS
June
Anderson (soprano); Sarah Walker (mezzo); Klaus König (tenor); Jan-Hendrik
Rootering (bass)
[94:00]
for
details
