I, your faithful reviewer, promising to be sound in
mind and body, reasonably sober etc etc blah blah, do hereby
declare that man this is good! The booklet notes
for this release conclude “No, we are never finished with
Beethoven!”, and this recording proves the point in many
ways.
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 is both enigmatic and
transparent. We’re always told it is a flawed masterpiece,
but perhaps never really stopped to wonder how or why. In any
case, we love it despite, perhaps even because of its hairy
warts. Love or hate Jan Willem de Vriend’s performance,
one of the things he is not afraid of doing is revealing every
moment of this piece with sharp and spot-lit scrutiny. This
is a long way from the opulent and shimmering aura created around
the work by conductors like Herbert von Karajan. It is by no
means a ‘chamber’ reading, but De Vriend handles
The Netherlands Symphony Orchestra like a string quartet, and
the resulting power is up close and personal: he holds up each
moment like the yet beating heart of an Aztec sacrificial victim,
and the result is that we can gain even more new insights into
this remarkable creation.
It has no doubt been pointed out before, but this performance
lays it out more barely than most, that Beethoven’s Symphony
No. 9 is an alchemic artistic wonder, somehow created from
a long string of musical banalities. This is part of the way
Beethoven works in most of his symphonies of course, developing
themes made up from minimal resources, and then building them
into collectively monumental shapes which follow pretty much
all of Henry Moore’s early rules for sculpture: truth
to your materials, avoidance of slavish reproduction or search
for the merely beautiful, achievement of powerful expression
through the contrasts of surging tension, texture, rhythm and
spatial sense: all of that stuff from which we can learn to
apply in every form of art.
The booklet notes include the results of discussions with Jan
Willem de Vriend, in which we are reminded that a Welsh steam
engine came to use in Vienna at the same time as the first sketches
for the ninth were being made. You can certainly hear the motoric
energy and sense of precipitate speed in the second movement’s
Molto vivace, though I first heard it as more of a kind
of operatic scene out of which it was as likely for a vocal
soloist to emerge as in the finale, this time with myriad members
of the choir milling around behind with purposeful intent. By
no means inflexibly machine-like, this Beethoven certainly does
have the surging drive of never-before seen objects of infernal
modern design and untold effects on the human soul. Compared
with John Eliot Gardiner’s recording with the Orchestre
Revolutionnaire et Romantique on the Archiv label, De Vriend
is less keen on allowing the music its moments to breath, favouring
unstoppable onward impetus and maintaining a tensile line of
force even where the dynamic falls and holes appear in the music
like an Emmentaler cheese. I prefer the Dutch drums as well,
which have a more usefully dark and less upper-harmonic rich
tone to Gardiner’s French revolutionary. Excellent though
this pungent period-instrument performance is I think this NSO
version is even more inspiring.
When was the last time you saw a classical music release advertised
on the side of a bus? I enjoyed the 7th and 8th
symphonies in this complete cycle (see review),
and this fifth volume is a fitting crown to a remarkable cycle,
now available as an attractive box set which I’ve seen
more than once promoted on the side of Dutch trams. Boisterous
and energetic it may be, with more rhythmic punch than a Power
Ranger, but the most tender moments are truly gorgeous, with
the poetry of the Adagio molto e cantabile expressed
unsentimentally but with a proportionate relationship to the
whole - a subsumed sense of eruption rather than of flaccid
repose, but performed with grace and lyrical sensitivity. There
is that question of vibrato in the strings, and if you are looking
for Berlin Philharmonic warmth then this is one place you won’t
find it. I don’t find this in the least disturbing, but
tastes differ.
So, we’re back to going along at fever pitch in the Finale
and it’s wow wow whoop all the way. The only hurdle
to be crossed is where the singing starts, and here is the only
point at which I have to start throwing mild critical barbs.
Baritone Geert Smits, instead of entering into the swift and
high-octane spirit of the whole thing, takes the opening ‘O
Freunde…’ as a Big Solo, ascending a throne as a
veritable king, rather than rising from amongst the orchestral
colleagues as one of the ‘Freunde’. This rather
over-fed recitative continues to sap the energy and drag in
tempo as the Allegro assai takes flight, and one has
the feeling that the onward momentum suffers throughout this
whole section. The parps of the contrabassoon are superb in
the Alla Marcia though, and tenor Marcel Reijans restores
a feeling of collective heroism in the “Froh, froh...”
solo, ably supported by the men of the chorus. 12:35 in and
that famous full choral tune enters with superb drive and energy,
cruising triumphantly over the deliberately sought out syncopations
in the drum. Listen too for the way De Vriend brings out the
orchestra in the gaps between the singing - just one of numerous
little tricks which keep everything dynamic and deliciously
direct and down to earth. The choir is perhaps not quite as
strong as the orchestra it has to be said, with one or two ‘flat’
moments such as the Andante maestoso at 13:25, where
the unison men could have sounded a bit more involved. They
are also less at home in the highest notes, but this is pretty
extreme choral writing after all. On the whole things are very
good however, and there are no real ‘if only’ places
which will return to haunt you on repeated listening. I’ve
deliberately avoided going through the whole thing with the
score and a fine toothcomb - we’d be here all week: the
overall effect is the most important thing, not pointing out
little details which you probably wouldn’t notice if they
weren’t picked out and shoved under your nose.
This is a tremendous and remarkably revealing performance of
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, and with the added
bonus of SACD surround sound it is also a genuinely spectacular
sonic experience. With all the benefits and strengths of modern
instrument sonority allied with period brass and historical
interpretative learning this is pretty much the state of the
art when it comes to this work, and if you thought you knew
it well through the sheen of your 1970s and 1980s favourites
then this is a very good place to allow yourself to be given
a healthy kick into some new thinking.
Dominy Clements
Masterwork Index: Beethoven
9