Why watch, as well
as listen to, a symphony? Well, if the
film direction is good, it can make
you believe you are at the concert.
It can highlight contributions from
particular instruments. Most of all,
it can clarify the conductor’s approach
to the music and interaction with the
orchestra. Here Bernstein conducts without
score, on a podium but with no music
stand as a barrier between himself and
the orchestra. At various times he inspires,
encourages, makes stabbing gestures,
blandishes, has a reverie, luxuriates
with, has a long sigh, leaps, pouts
and dances. Also he clearly loves, and
has insight to offer regarding, every
bar. Was there ever a conductor who
expended so much physical and emotional
energy? Yet he was only 55 at the time
of this recording and looks pretty fit,
not as decrepit-moving as the cover
still misleadingly suggests.
Though working with
only three cameramen and curiously unable
in the high-banked auditorium to show
us the entire orchestra, Humphrey Burton
is an experienced director who knows
when to focus on key instrumental solos.
He isn’t afraid, either, to showcase
the conductor’s pivotal role. The film
therefore becomes a graphic display
of the gamut of emotions of the symphony
revealed first through the conductor,
then through the response he obtains
from the musicians. It shows its age,
or maybe fashion, only in an educational
fondness, especially evident in the
slow movement, for showing instruments
disembodied. The fade-out between movements
is also irritating as it breaks the
continuity of the performance.
As you might expect,
Bernstein gets a powerhouse opening
to the First Symphony but I find it
more heroically ardent than stressful.
The tempo is finely judged. The ‘un
poco sostenuto’ is just that, to bring
majesty without impeding the force of
the expression. The full-blooded violins
in upper register have a slightly grating
fluorescence but their expression is
heartfelt. This is an account of purposeful
progress, fire and eloquence in which
all Brahms’ accents are felt. On the
other hand the warmth and plasticity
of the second theme (tr. 2 from 5:08)
is also noteworthy, as is the sheer
vertical detail throughout.
The first movement
exposition is repeated (from 6:56) and
the repeat seems to have even more energy
and resolve. The key double-bassoon
entry in the development (12:12) is
clear and the gradual crescendo towards
the recapitulation is as cataclysmic
as you could wish. At the climax the
blasting monotone horns (15:53) seem
a touch underpowered, though not for
want of spur from Bernstein. The sighing
violins in the calm coda (16:14) are
wonderfully evocative because there’s
also a degree of control.
The slow movement is
warm and intense in feeling, with rich,
expressive strings, especially at the
first climax (tr. 3 20:35, continuous
timing) where a strong bass cuts across
the soaring violins and Bernstein’s
face is contorted in both agony and
ecstasy. The becalming from 22:16 is
pleasingly shaped to the plateau at
22:44, but from 23:12 slows considerably
and somewhat indulgently. This is expansion
to the point of loss of continuity.
From 24:32 there’s a fine, serene balance
between solo violin and first horn in
duet as time seems suspended.
The ‘Un poco Allegretto
e grazioso’ of the third movement intermezzo
is very poco, towards Adagietto, but
it’s undeniably graceful in being at
ease with itself and in its finely phrased
sense of flow. The opening is all smooth
contours, playful, idyllic and, from
Bernstein’s expression, blissful. The
trio (tr. 4 30:05) is more, arguably
overmuch, formal and portentous, with
a grand crescendo and climax. The coda
(33:10) is exquisitely drawn out, though
the sound is a little too full for tranquillity.
The swift eruption
of the serious opening of the finale
is finely shaped with palpable concentration.
The pizzicato strings are then expectant,
though the ‘stringendo poco a poco’
is a bit overcooked. I wouldn’t say
the solemn full tone of the horn solo
(tr. 5 36:30) is ‘passionato’ but the
flute repeat (37:05) is a touch more
so. The trombones’ chorale at 37:44
is as beautiful as I’ve heard and the
overlapping first and second horn solos
at 38:07/10, 14/18 are clear, though
you only see the second horn’s nail
varnish, not her face, till later. The
pause isn’t observed before the entrance
of the strings’ big tune at 38:47 yet
it’s rich and purposeful, though it
has more breadth than the marked ‘con
brio’. This may explain the acceleration
latterly (from 39:46) in the woodwind
repeat, anticipating the ‘animato’ as
marked and applied further at 40:03.
Now we’re back in the
fiery manner of the first movement but
Bernstein also has the flexibility to
allow a poetically measured oboe solo
(tr.6 41:12) before the next strings’
onslaught. The second appearance of
the big tune at 42:53 is marked ‘largamente’
which allows Bernstein more breadth,
maybe even a touch smoochy, but it’s
good to hear clearly the second violins
and violas. Bernstein gets across the
sheer variety of mood of this movement
as well as anyone with, for example,
another ‘animato’ bursting out at 44:0.
But he also tenderly brings out the
violas’ expressive moment at 45:00,
a nuance that Elgar would have relished
and typical of Bernstein’s sure ear
for detail. The climax, as in the first
movement, is earth-shattering, the echoing
horns stronger still, the violins’ searching
expression at 47:25 becomes more rhapsodic
with a slowing of pace from 47:35, an
insight into the spirit if not the letter
of the music, before a resumption of
Brahms’ tempo at 47:46. Another, even
more defensible broadening out of tempo
comes at the splendour of the full brass
choir at 49:56. Electrifying applause
erupts before the final chord has finished.
For once I don’t blame the audience.
The sound is agreeably
rounded and in surround mode opened
out, though not as full as more recent
surround sound productions. Some tape
hiss is audible in the quieter passages
but it isn’t intrusive.
I compared the DVD
of the WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne/Semyon
Bychkov (Arthaus 101243) recorded in
2002. This benefits from a smoother
and denser surround sound but Bychkov’s
performance is at a lower emotional,
or higher cerebral, temperature. He’s
a slightly more remote figure than Bernstein,
though not without passion and with
a nice line in eye-rolling. Another
distancing feature is filming in the
concert hall without an audience and
the auditorium blacked out, not exactly
improper but decidedly spooky. With
eight cameramen the camera work is busier,
with more of the orchestra seen and
more sense therefore of the individual
players as personalities, especially
those with frequent solos like the first
oboist who moves around a fair deal
while playing.
Here are the comparative
timings
Timings |
I |
II |
III |
IV |
tt |
Bernstein |
16:51 |
10:11 |
5:49 |
18:13 |
51:24 |
Bychkov |
17:15 |
8:54 |
4:52 |
18:09 |
49:10 |
The main difference
lies in Bernstein’s slower inner movements;
his second movement is incorrectly cited
in the booklet as 5:06. In the first
movement Bychkov also repeats the exposition
and achieves majesty but not tension.
He has a fine feel for the shaping of
the poetic aspects but in the more heroic
brings rhetoric rather than compelling
progression. Ultimately my impression
is of a stylish ensemble sound, well
drilled, but one which rather lacks
what Bernstein’s has in abundance: a
sense of occasion.
However, I find Bychkov’s
slow movement more satisfying because
it’s smoother, more relaxed and has
a better sense of structure than Bernstein’s.
Although the strings aren’t so rich,
they have a pleasingly veiled quality,
more classically contained like the
movement as a whole. It’s exquisitely
done but the emphases are still there.
I prefer Bychkov’s
intermezzo too. His idyll is more vibrant,
with more movement to it and a more
animated trio. Which is to say there’s
no variation in tempo: Brahms didn’t
mark any. So the movement is shown all
of a piece.
Bychkov begins the
finale with a kind of musing sense of
mystery, the strings’ pizzicato passages
more questing than dramatic. The horn
solo is fruitier than Bernstein’s but
not really ‘passionato’ either. The
big string tune is more objective and
formal, while he also speeds up the
woodwind repeat before the ‘animato’.
But thereafter it’s all rather streamlined
without the impact of Bernstein. Bychkov
is at his best in the becalming passage,
bars 293-303, marked ‘calando’, gradually
diminishing, after the second horns’
duet, before a gentle resumption of
the ‘animato’.
Turning to the Third
Symphony, Bernstein’s performance is
highly variegated. It begins darkly.
The ‘passionato’ marking for the violins
at the opening is quite fiercely realized
and the tempo an expansive Allegro con
brio. But the second theme, on clarinets
and bassoons (tr. 8 56:47) is mellifluous
and lilting. On its repeat at 57:02
Bernstein visually impersonates a charming
waltz. But the rapid crescendo and diminuendo
of the strings’ response at 57:30 is
given its full expressiveness while
there’s a touch lingering on the return
of the opening motto at 57:37. Its reappearances
are always made crystal clear. The exposition
repeat is made and this reinforces the
stormy feel. The second theme seems
more thoughtful, even though Bernstein
blows a kiss at a player at 60:23, the
strings’ response more wistful.
The development is
turbulent then slows up considerably
from 62:59 for the horn and oboe musings,
well before the ‘poco rit’ at 63:26.
So ‘Un poco sostenuto’ at 63:40 is tiptoe
stuff to make way for a steelier, stern
‘Tempo I’ recapitulation at 64:14. Even
the sweet reflections on the first violins
at 65:02 are rather wanly winsome.
The slow movement here
is a total contrast in its sunny gentleness
with fine, smooth and chaste woodwind
ensemble to the fore and the strings
a dusky background. The third theme,
on clarinets and bassoons (tr. 9 71:58)
is savoured with greater leisure, yet
with the gentle mood maintained this
is quite magical. At 74:55 the return
of the opening theme, its lead-in smoothly
effected, is freer, more homely and
companionable than before. The coda
(76:15) is more expansive and a mite
indulgent but makes a glorious golden
sunset of soaring violins.
Unlike his First Symphony
Bernstein finds a genuine ‘Poco Allegretto’
in this third movement intermezzo. The
strings’ opening retains the freedom
and flexibility found latterly in the
previous movement. The outcome is expressive
and winsome, with both beauty and a
certain fragility. The more brooding
strings’ only passages in the trio (eg.
tr. 10 81:01), are taken a little more
slowly but Bernstein always returns
to the opening tempo. Only in the coda
(83:56) is the expansiveness a touch
extravagant.
The finale begins with
a little more urgency and restlessness,
as appropriate to its Allegro marking.
Egged on by Bernstein, a great eruption
from the trombones (tr. 11 85:29) ushers
in an alacritous second theme. A third,
more heroic theme (86:05) is somewhat
thin in tone from first the cellos and
later the violins, not as assured as
might be but growing more resolute as
it continues. The development and its
climax are formal and rigorous. But
this symphony’s real climax is that
soft moment of transformation from F
minor to F major at the oboe entry (91:56),
achieved here with telling sleight of
hand. After this the spotlit brass chorale
from 92:32 is treated by Bernstein as
a humble hymn of thanksgiving.
For the Third Symphony
I compared the DVD of the Stuttgart
Radio Symphony Orchestra/Roger Norrington
(Hanssler Classic 93903) recorded in
2005. This has a clean textured, discreet
surround sound and celebrates the music
in an attractive, rather fastidious,
manner, less emotional than Bernstein.
Norrington’s performance, like Bychkov’s,
is filmed in the concert hall without
an audience. With six cameramen the
camera work is busy enough, with plenty
of the orchestra seen and relatively
little attention given to Norrington.
He’s affable but his economy of gesture
is far less demonstrative than Bernstein.
Here are the comparative
timings
Timings |
I |
II |
III |
IV |
tt |
Bernstein |
14:19 |
9:15 |
5:47 |
9:49 |
39:10 |
Norrington |
12:09 |
8:43 |
5:53 |
8:21 |
35:07 |
Norrington is swifter
throughout except the intermezzo. His
first movement is leaner and brighter.
He argues in his DVD extra introduction
its rhythm and approach is modelled
on Schumann’s Third Symphony and pictures
it as Brahms swimming in the North Sea.
He did! So yes, horns blaze but strings
also skip with superb clarity and vibrato
free sheen. He also repeats the exposition.
The second theme isn’t a change of mood,
though it’s pleasantly relaxed. It’s
part of the vibrant continuity and not
to be, like Bernstein’s, specially savoured.
The development is vigorous but there’s
no turmoil. I think this relatively
angst free approach suits this movement
better.
Norrington’s slow movement
is smooth and streamlined, an Andante
close to Allegretto. The opening theme
is serene but not as sublime as Bernstein’s.
However, I prefer Norrington’s presentation
of the movement all of a piece. The
central section doesn’t change tempo
or mood, though the third theme is a
touch slower and more thoughtful. Norrington
conveys the emotion through transparency
of texture rather than Bernstein’s emphasis
of dynamic contrasts. Norrington’s coda
therefore seems relatively sedate but
still glistens.
In the intermezzo Norrington
is melancholic where Bernstein is autumnal.
Norrington makes it subdued, elegiac
and, like Bernstein, shows a touch of
fragility. Norrington does this partly
by reducing his strings, with at least
a third not playing. One way of realizing
Brahms’ ‘mezza voce’ marking for the
opening theme. His trio is more urgent
than Bernstein’s masterly lighter pointing,
but his strings’ response is of a more
sensitively shaded expansiveness.
At its consistently
maintained fast pace Norrington’s finale
emerges more all of a piece than Bernstein’s.
It’s less dramatic but its clean line
is satisfying, as is the jollier heroic,
dashing quality the third theme has.
And the cross rhythms, especially from
the horns, in the climactic passages
come across stimulatingly. Norrington
charts the musical progression, how
the opening theme transforms, where
Bernstein vividly expresses the emotive
progression. Norrington’s transition
to the major is delicately sunny, the
following chorale glowing against a
sensitive shimmer of strings.
To conclude, Bernstein’s
performances don’t work all the time
for me but the Israel Philharmonic play
their hearts out for him. And you can
see why. When the conductor lives and
loves every bar and can realize so many
nuances thereby, how could they not.
This is a special experience which it’s
a privilege to be able to share. It
has unquestionably added to my understanding
of these symphonies.
Michael Greenhalgh
for
details
Israel
Philharmonic Orchestra/Leonard Bernstein
EUROARTS
2072048 D [95:38] 
