Richard STRAUSS (1864-1949)
Ein Heldenleben (1898) [47:04]
Antonín DVORÁK (1841-1904)
Symphony no. 9 in E minor, op.95, From the New World (1893) [42:14]
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Rudolf Kempe (Strauss)
BBC Symphony Orchestra/Rudolf Kempe (Dvorák)
rec. Royal Albert Hall, London; 28 August 1974 (Strauss) and 29 August 1975
(Dvorák)
ICA CLASSICS DVD 
ICAD
5009 [89:18] 
In a letter to his friend, the distinguished French man of letters Romain
Rolland, Richard Strauss categorically denied that he was the model for Ein
Heldenleben: “I am not a hero. I have not got the necessary strength;
I am not cut out for battle; I prefer to withdraw, to be quiet, to have peace.”
Some commentators may have refused to take Strauss at his word, but the uncredited
director of this BBC transmission of a 1974 Proms concert is clearly not among
them. His view of things is crystal clear for, throughout the whole
of the work’s first section, a musical depiction of Der Held (The Hero),
he resolutely directs his cameras at the conductor. There is, in fact, not
a single second of that opening 4:59 of music when Rudolf Kempe is not pictured
on-screen, whether in close-up, middle distance or in long-shot. The corollary
of that fact is that as soon as we begin the work’s second section, Des
Helden Widersacher (The Hero’s Adversaries), we start to see the orchestra
members on their own – but maybe I am now stretching my theory of the supposed
relationship between the visual images and the “text” just a little too far.
Even though Kempe’s widow Cordula records in the DVD booklet notes that her
husband “thoroughly resented” being pigeonholed as a Strauss (and Wagner)
specialist, his affinity with Strauss’s music was well recognised at the time.
His record company EMI persuaded him to set down the complete orchestral works
on disc. No less a personage than the Queen Mother reportedly gushed “Oh,
Mr Kempe, when will you do the Alpine Symphony again?” (rather a surprise,
given recent
revelations of the sort of music she listened to at home). And, as evidenced
in this performance taken from the conductor’s very last concert with the
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the 1974 Promenaders were quite over the moon
with this Ein Heldenleben; critic Joan Chissell reported that
this performance elicited “a hero’s ovation and rightly”.
Having never seen Kempe conduct live or on film before, the first thing that
struck me was just how physically charismatic and animated he was on the podium.
By fastidious, very precise gestures with both his baton and the fingers of
his left hand, he coaxes some exquisite sonorities that we can fully appreciate
thanks to his scrupulous care for orchestral balance - and to the installation
of fibre-glass acoustic diffusing discs on the Royal Albert Hall’s ceiling
just five years earlier, successfully reducing its notorious echo.
The outstanding characteristic of Kempe’s interpretation is that, by the application
of both sensitivity and sensibility, he gives Strauss’s score the opportunity
to breathe. This is, indeed, anything but a brash, bombastic account: the
orchestra plays with notable and carefully controlled intensity and Erich
Gruenberg’s substantial violin solos are especially affecting - he justifiably
gets a special roar of approval from the Promenaders as he takes his bow.
If the Strauss is very fine indeed, the Dvorák is, however, outstanding. Edward
Greenfield’s booklet notes suggest that its distinguishing feature is the
wide range of dynamics that Kempe applies. What struck me most, however, was
the interpretation itself. In contrast to performances that emphasise the
score’s elements of cheery Bohemian bonhomie, Kempe’s is a deeply serious
account.
The opening movement is characterised by fierce attack and precision - wonderful
playing from the BBC orchestra - and Kempe minimises the elements of lyricism
in favour high drama. In a similar vein, the second movement’s sentimentality
is entirely played down. Its well-known “big tune” (Goin’ home, Goin’ home,
I’m a goin’ home / Quiet like, still some day, I’m just goin’ home) is
moved purposefully along and the fervent manner in which its central section
is played communicates, to this listener at least, a distinctly uneasy feeling
of agitation and unrest.
Kempe’s interpretation is nothing if not consistently of a piece for the scherzo
and the allegro con fuoco finale are similarly driven powerfully
forward. The formers elements of bucolic rusticism are given short shrift
and the latter, right from its opening bars, emerges as a real daredevil ride
and is terribly exciting - while still very skilfully controlled and crafted.
This New World is one that emerges as a real eye-opener and a very
different work from the one that we’re usually presented with. It justifiably
receives a huge ovation from the audience.
This new DVD, then, preserves some superb performances. The direction – originally
for BBC TV - is expert and thus almost entirely unobtrusive, the visual image
- in colour throughout - is sharp and pleasing and the sound is more than
acceptable. It offers an opportunity to acquaint or reacquaint oneself with
a conductor of the highest calibre, performing live and at the peak of his
abilities.
Rob Maynard
This new DVD preserves some superb performances directed by a conductor of
the highest calibre, performing live and at the peak of his abilities.