The name of Klemperer remains linked to that of Beethoven. The image
persists of a style too heavy and massive to be ideal in Mozart. Yet,
as Richard Osborne’s informative notes to this set point out,
Mozart punctuated Klemperer’s career from almost the beginning
to the very end. As early as 1914 he had conducted
Così fan
tutte. By 1920 his unsentimental, classically direct Mozart was
arousing critical attention. A performance of the
Haffner Symphony
in Sweden in 1946 led directly to his appointment to Budapest Opera,
while a 1951
Jupiter finally convinced Walter Legge that Klemperer
was worth signing up. The
Jupiter was the opening salvo, in 1954,
of the legendary Philharmonia/Klemperer collaboration. The K.375 Serenade,
with the wind band of what was now the New Philharmonia, brought the
curtain down on Klemperer’s career in 1971.
Here we have, as far as I know, all the “official” Philharmonia/New
Philharmonia EMI recordings, including duplications, of works for orchestra
alone. The four operatic recordings are issued separately, while the
Horn Concertos, with Alan Civil, and a Piano Concerto with Barenboim,
are to be found in a box dedicated to Klemperer’s concerto collaborations.
A few earlier recordings and various live recordings, some more official
than others, have been sporadically available. They shed some light
on the development of Klemperer’s performing style, in particular
the issue of his slow tempi. As far as purely orchestral works are concerned,
no performance seems to have come to light of any work that he did not
also take into the studio in this last phase.
I’ve patiently listed the contents of the discs at the foot of
the review. If you can find any logic - Mozart-wise or Klemperer-wise
- to what seems to me a random, higgledy-piggledy sequence, please use
our Bulletin Board. I’d love to know. For my own listening - and
writing - I organized it into a chronological Klemperer-sequence.
1954
Klemperer had first conducted the Philharmonia Orchestra in 1951. On
the programme was a performance of Mozart’s “Jupiter”
Symphony that, as Richard Osborne tells us, “largely dispelled”
Walter Legge’s residual doubts over the wisdom of backing Klemperer
as a major EMI artist for the coming years. Negotiations were concluded
in 1952 and October-November 1954 saw the first Klemperer/Philharmonia/Legge
collaboration - the “Jupiter” and Mozart’s 29
th
Symphony. Klemperer had mightily impressed Legge with a performance
of this latter in Milan earlier the same year.
Modern listeners may find the initial attack of no. 29 somewhat puzzling.
Not only is the tempo slow but the phrasing is practically all legato,
with no space between the opening two notes, for example. It seems this
subdued opening, this lack of an energetic profile to the theme, is
how Klemperer sees it, since it is played the same way every time it
appears. From the first forte passage the music gains a stately stride
with textures that are full yet clear. Above all, a very special radiance
shines through it. If Klemperer is not much interested in the rococo
aspects of early Mozart, he never lets us forget that this music is
the product of the age of enlightenment. The following andante similarly
has a steady tread combined with warm but unsentimental phrasing. If
you think by now you’ve got Klemperer’s Mozart summed up,
the fiercely, almost viciously protesting Minuet will come as a shock,
as will the abrasive finale.
The “Jupiter” is a pretty forceful affair. The first movement
is proudly, even brusquely pulsating, the second is definitely in 3
not 6. In other hands it might have seemed too fast, but Klemperer’s
beautifully shaped phrasing lends it a grave serenity. The Minuet is
strong and vital, the Finale so fast as to risk sounding uncomfortable,
especially since Klemperer pushes on inexorably. I must say I’d
have preferred a little more breathing space. Interestingly Klemperer,
having omitted the first movement repeat, gives the first repeat in
the Finale. Presumably the aim is to make it the longest movement of
the four.
1956
1955 was largely taken up with the famous first mono recordings of Beethoven
3, 5 and 7. 1956 was the Mozart bicentenary and Klemperer was as busy
with it as anyone. In March came “Eine kleine Nachtmusik”,
the “Serenata Notturna” and the C minor Adagio and Fugue.
“Nachtmusik” is robust and firm in its step but, at tempi
that probably didn’t sound particularly slow back then, it also
has a good deal of grace. Much care is taken over phrasing and dynamics.
It has to be added that ensemble isn’t always watertight, and
this seems to disturb more in Mozart than in Beethoven or the romantics.
The presence of timpani in the “Serenata Notturna” often
tempts conductors to make a rather boorish thing out of it. Klemperer
amuses himself by teasing out Viennese sweetness where you’d least
expect him to. The drums are well in the background. Less unexpectedly,
he gets maximum profundity from the C minor Adagio and a gruff vigour
from the Fugue.
From 19 to 25 July, with just one day of rest half-way, Klemperer set
down five more symphonies.
No.25 actually came on the last day. The first movement is amazingly
fiery. The second is as if suspended in time. Basically serene, at quite
a swift tempo, the dark colours of the bassoon and horn counter-melodies
lend the proceedings an air of profound unease. The Minuet is stern,
the Finale dramatic in the truest sense. Brisk rather than dashing,
it unfolds like an operatic finale, every theme announcing a new character
or a new twist to the events. This was the first performance so far
that had me reaching for the word “great”.
The “Linz” is outstanding too. I was about to say the abiding
impression is of a fiery vitality, but I realized that, in truth, no
element dominates over the others. Klemperer’s response to the
meaning, colour and character of every phrase is extraordinarily detailed.
If his Mozart was never rococo and frilly, there’s grace where
required. If he was basically unsentimental, there’s real warmth
in the slow movement. This is a performance that needs to be heard many
times.
Was the success of these two recordings the reason that no later stereo
versions were made of either? Klemperer certainly retained his affection
for no.25. I recall it was included in one of the very last concerts
he conducted, and most critics felt it the highlight of the evening.
In the slow introductions to nos. 38 and 39 Klemperer extracts a maximum
of
Don Giovanni-like strength and gravity, without heaviness.
Thereafter the “Prague” also gets a terse, briskly energized
performance. I found plenty to admire in the fierce, fiery first movement
but found myself hustled through the rest without sufficient breathing
space. The slow movement is almost perfunctory.
No. 39 also has a vital first movement - the “Eroica” parallels
predictably engaged Klemperer. Nor does he linger over the second movement,
but this time I found him right inside the music, breathing it and expressing
it. The Minuet has a purposeful stride - no Austrian charm in the trio,
with almost caustic attention paid to the second clarinet’s busy
part. The Finale may seem steady at first, but this soon proves the
maximum speed at which all the notes will sound really brilliant. With
the result that it ends up by sounding almighty fast.
I wouldn’t quite produce this 39 to convert those who say Klemperer’s
methods were doubtfully suited to Mozart. Given the methods, though,
and unlike the “Prague”, 39 shows them somewhere near their
best.
Klemperer’s 40
th was always more controversial. It
came out on LP coupled with the earlier G minor, no. 25; Klemperer clearly
wished the two works to appear complementary. This they certainly do.
If 25 was all fire and drama, the submissive poignancy with which the
first movement of no. 40 steals in relates the work to the Requiem.
None of the drive and drama of Toscanini or Furtwängler here. On
the other hand, the sinking tonality at the beginning of the development
has rarely been so moving. The Andante is spacious but the actual sound
is lean, the climaxes uncompromisingly spare. The Minuet has a sort
of gruff grace while the Finale begins so slowly one almost gasps. With
brilliant string articulation, though, this tempo soon begins to sound
the fastest one possible. The second subject fits this tempo beautifully.
One is left reflecting that conductors who take a faster tempo either
put on the brakes here or barge through unfeelingly. On its own terms
this is a remarkable performance, one with a power to leave you wondering
if its own terms might be Mozart’s as well.
1960
How typical of Klemperer that he should have concluded his 1956 Mozart
sessions with the “little” G minor symphony rather than
complete his set of the “last six”. 1957-1959 were notably
busy with Beethoven and Brahms, so the “last six” were completed
only in 1960. First, however, he set down a recording of the
Entführung
which seems low key at the beginning but soon has a sizzling vitality
since the strings can really play the inner parts at this slightly-slower-than-usual
tempo. His placing of the second violins on the right means we really
hear them at it, too. Slightly odder is his relegation of the “Turkish”
percussion elements - so greatly relished in Beecham’s roughly
contemporary recording - to virtual inaudibility. Together with a stern
rendering of the Andante section this makes for a concentration on the
musical aspects. You wouldn’t necessarily guess that a comic opera
is about to begin. Klemperer hoped to conduct a recording of the complete
opera in his very last years. If I remember rightly a cast was actually
assembled and, in the event, gave a Festival Hall performance under
another conductor.
The “Haffner” shows Klemperer’s Mozart at its very
finest. The opening may strike one as a tad slow, but there’s
no sentimental slackening for the answering phrases and the whole first
movement is illumined as with a radiant inner light. Likewise the second
movement is devoid of rococo airs and graces, yet it is beautifully
poised, without an ounce of romantic fat. The minuet does seem a pompous
strut. But it wasn’t in Klemperer’s DNA to do a minuet at
a tempo that wouldn’t fit the trio, and the trio here has a lovely
ländler-like gait. The finale - well, I look like repeating myself
every time a finale comes up. When it starts you think, gosh, it’s
slow. But then comes brilliant string articulation that makes it actually
seem fast, every new idea is characterized as in an opera finale, when
a new character comes on stage. It’s worth coming to terms with
Klemperer here.
1962
In 1962 Klemperer returned to Mozart in a big way, replacing earlier
mono or rudimentary stereo recordings of the “Prague” and
the last three symphonies.
I found a definite gain only in no. 39. The tempi are only marginally
slower and the result lends the reading a stature it just missed before.
This is Mozart seen with Beethovenian hindsight, but this symphony can
take it. If the first movement has an “Eroica”-like grandeur,
the stomping minuet now exudes enjoyment and the finale has a Puckish
relish that looks to Beethoven’s Fourth. The second movement,
too, has an outdoor songfulness that relates it more to Beethoven Four
than to the “Eroica”. This now joins the select list of
Klemperer’s finest Mozart performances.
For the rest I was even doubtful whether the recordings themselves improved
matters. It’s a more diffused sound compared with the lean quality
of the earlier essays, as if a blunt instrument is being used to shape
the music. On the other hand, is this a reflection of Klemperer’s
growing tendency to concentrate on the grand design and let details
fend for themselves? Fine as this can be in Beethoven and German romantics,
the results here seem to show that Mozart really needs detailed sculpting
of the single phrases. As it is the music trundles along grandly without
greatly engaging this listener, at least. Occasional moments of incandescence
only show that Klemperer was by now less able, or willing, to really
stretch his players.
Having complained that the “Prague” was almost hustled along
before, I certainly didn’t think that here. I suppose there’s
gain in the slow movement but the finale is dispiriting.
So is most of no.40. Oddly enough the second movement has an identical
timing, yet it sounds slower and heavier nonetheless. Readers who have
noticed that the overall times of these two symphonies are actually
shorter than before should be told that first movement repeats, present
in the earlier recordings, are here dropped.
When I saw that the first movement of the “Jupiter” had
increased from 8.01 to 9.17 I supposed it had gained its repeat - missing
before. But no, it’s just an almighty lot slower. Frankly, it
plods nor do the orchestra seem convinced, with several spurts into
what must have seemed to them a more natural tempo, clawed back by the
wet blanket on the rostrum. The rest is better and the finale rather
grand, but none of it’s really as fine as before.
1963
1963 saw recordings of symphonies 31 and 34 and the
Gran Partita.
This project to set down three works he hadn’t recorded before
certainly sounds to have been closer to his heart than the previous
year’s batch of symphonies. If tempi are not breakneck there are
none that are strikingly slow and there is abundant vitality plus, in
the
Partita, a droll sprightliness. The “Paris” has
a D major refulgence similar to Klemperer’s “Haffner”,
while in no. 34 he particularly relishes the mock C major pomposity
of the first movement, with its several curious wrong turns. In the
Partita he relishes the individual colours of the instruments,
rather than having them blend smoothly like a harmonium. The chunky
accompaniment to the Adagio third movement seems as much like a Stravinskian
neo-classical take on Mozart as the real thing. Sublimity is there when
needed - the penultimate variation of the 6
th movement -
but is not overdone or applied where inappropriate. Mozartian grace
and elegance is not lacking, yet the final effect is not of an aristocratic
dinner party but a timeless celebration of something deeper.
If anyone has doubts about Klemperer’s Mozartian credentials,
this trio of performances might be a good place to start.
1964
The
Gran Partita had been produced by Ronald Kinloch Anderson,
the first of the recordings discussed not to have been masterminded
by Walter Legge. Legge, as is known, was coming to feel that Klemperer
was no longer able to deliver, and 1964 was the year he tried to pull
the rug from his feet by disbanding the Philharmonia Orchestra. The
last Philharmonia performance in this box is the
Zauberflöte
overture. This seems to have been extracted from the complete recording
of the opera, which may account for the quite phenomenally detailed
insights on offer. Joy and lightness, but also profound seriousness
and some quite sinister elements all combine effortlessly. Peter Andry
was the producer here and for a clutch of New Philharmonia recordings
later in the year. At 4:31, Klemperer’s
Così fan tutte
overture is actually swifter than the earlier Philharmonia recording
under Böhm, highly regarded in its day. I find it uncomfortable,
not because the tempo is an impossible lick - one has heard faster -
but because Klemperer barges through without breathing space. His
Figaro
overture, on the other hand, would give you a fairly solidly-boiled
egg at 4:45. It doesn’t actually feel slow and is rougher and
bolder than we usually hear. Klemperer allows some old-fashioned slowing
in second-subject territory and I have the idea that the extra time
is due to this.
Unreservedly fine are the overtures to
Don Giovanni - drama,
tragedy, swagger and comedy - and
Clemenza, full of the sort
of C major splendour he didn’t quite achieve in the
Jupiter
two years before. The
Masonic Funeral Music is one of Klemperer’s
unassailably great performances. Without labouring the point, he gives
it a timeless depth and stature. This alone is worth the price of the
set.
The message may have reached you that Klemperer’s remakes tend
to be less desirable than his thoughts from the previous decade. There
are exceptions.
Eine kleine Nachtmusik has added a few seconds
to each of its movements, yet this is a case where, if you like that
sort of thing at all, you may like this better. It all fits so perfectly
together, somehow informed as by a steady, unwavering inner light.
1965
Something similar happened with the following year’s remake of
Symphony 29. Tempi are only fractionally slower, so the Minuet is still
quite fierce and the
Allegro con spirito Finale has all the spirit
you could want. If you don’t like the first movement in a moderate
four - but it says
Allegro moderato, Klemperer would have pointed
out - then I suppose you won’t like this either. I find that the
slight extra space gives justification to the sublime approach. Furthermore,
it is not at all heavy, all is light and grace here and in the second
movement.
Symphony 33 was new to the Klemperer discography. Was it the appearance
of the “Jupiter” theme in the first movement development
that aroused his curiosity? Whatever, the performance is extremely detailed
in its phrasing, vital and graceful by turns in the first movement and
with an aura of dawning sublimity as the “Jupiter” motif
breaks through. Klemperer is warm and tender in the second movement
and quite brisk in the Minuet. The strange tarantella-like finale has
a fizzing sense of enjoyment.
Two wonderful performances.
1967
As read by Klemperer, the C minor Serenade is a symphony in all but
its reduced instrumentation. The beginning is grave rather than fierce
and the conductor finds heart-easing grace when the major-key second
subject arrives. The tempo is not all that slow. The second movement
has a hymn-like flow. The Minuet does sound rather sour. Did Mozart
really write all this C minor music to charm his patron or was he protesting
in some way? That’s how it sounds here. The finale, too, while
starting off in quite a sprightly fashion - and the final pay-off is
certainly perky - takes some doleful turns along the way. A slightly
odd performance of a rather odd piece.
1971
Post-1967, Klemperer set down his notoriously slow-motion versions of
Figaro and
Così fan tutte. The Serenade K.375 was
his last recording session of all. The same piece was included the following
week in what proved to be his last concert. EMI waited six years before
issuing the recording.
This sounds ominous, but in reality all is gentle and serene. Tempi
are comfortable but not untenably slow. Once set they do not drag, as
sometimes happened with late Klemperer. Just possibly, a select group
of eight of London’s finest wind-players - unnamed, unfortunately
- were better equipped than the full orchestra to help the physically
debilitated Klemperer obtain what he wanted. Richard Osborne quotes
the producer, Suvi Raj Grubb, as saying “there was an extraordinarily
single-minded concentration by Klemperer on those sessions … all
his energies were focused on the music”. This shines through and
the recording is a worthy pendant to the other Serenades heard in this
set.
In short, this Mozart box seems to contain about the same proportion
of great performances, near misses and damp squibs as all the other
Klemperer boxes in this series. It certainly shows that his style was
not inimical to Mozart. His finest Mozart performances are a match for
any, and actually stand up better today than some that were more fêted
in their own time.
Christopher Howell
Masterwork Index:
Mozart symphonies
Track List
CD 1 [76:55]
Così fan tutte K.588 - Overture [4:31]
New Philharmonia, 29-30 October 1964, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Symphony no. 25 in G m K.183 [19:17]
Philharmonia, 25 July 1956, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Adagio and Fugue in C m K.546 [8:36]
Philharmonia, 27 March 1956, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Symphony no. 29 in A K.201 [25:16]
New Philharmonia, 20, 21 & 23 September 1965, Abbey Road Studio
no. 1
Symphony no. 31 in D K.297 - “Paris” [19:49]
Philharmonia, 16-18 October 1963, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
CD 2 [78:55]
Symphony no. 33 in B flat K.319 [23:02]
New Philharmonia, 20, 21 & 23 September 1965, Abbey Road Studio
no. 1
Symphony no. 34 in C K.338 [23:07]
Philharmonia, 18-19 October 1963, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Symphony no. 40 in G m K.550 [26:56]
Philharmonia, 21 & 23 July 1956, Kingsway Hall
Masonic Funeral Music K.477
New Philharmonia, 9 & 14 November 1964, Abbey Road Studio no.
1
CD 3 [78:54]
Symphony no. 35 in D - “Haffner” K.385 [18:17]
Philharmonia, 22-23 October 1960, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Symphony no. 36 in C - “Linz” K.425 [26:59]
Philharmonia, 19 July 1956, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 38 in D - “Prague” K.504 [25:53]
Philharmonia, 26-28 March 1962, Kingsway Hall
Die Zauberflöte K.620 - Overture [7:19]
Philharmonia, 24-26 & 31 March, 1-4, 6-8 & 10 April 1964,
Kingsway Hall
CD 4 [77:50]
Serenade in G - “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” K.525 [19:09]
New Philharmonia, 29-30 October, 4 November 1964, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 39 in E flat K.543 [28:24]
Philharmonia, 26-28 March 1962, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 41 in C - “Jupiter” K.551 [30.00]
Philharmonia, 6-7 March 1962, Kingsway Hall
CD 5 [75:29]
Serenade in B flat - “Gran Partita” K.361 [48:17]
London Wind Quintet & Ensemble, 26 January, 10-13 December 1963,
Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Serenade in E flat K.375 [27:04]
New Philharmonia Wind Ensemble, 20-21 September 1971, Abbey Road
Studio no. 1
CD 6 [56:06]
Serenade in D - “Serenata notturna” K.239 [13:00]
Philharmonia, 25 March 1956, Abbey Road Studio no. 1
Serenade in C minor K.388 [19:50]
New Philharmonia Wind Ensemble, 9-11, 14-15 March 1967, Abbey Road
Studio no. 1
Die Entführung aus dem Serail K.384 - Overture [5:50]
Philharmonia, 29 September 1960, Kingsway Hall
Le nozze di Figaro K.492 - Overture [4:45]
Don Giovanni K.527 - Overture [6:56]
La clemenza di Tito K.621 - Overture [5:17]
New Philharmonia, 29-30 October, 9 & 14 November 1964, Abbey
Road Studio no. 1
CD 7 [77:14]
Symphony no. 29 in A K.201 [24:42]
Philharmonia, 8-9 October 1954, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 38 in D - “Prague” K.504 [27:00]
Philharmonia, 20, 23 & 24 July 1956, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 40 in G m K.550 [25:24]
Philharmonia, 8 & 28 March 1962, Kingsway Hall
CD 8 [74:18]
Symphony no. 39 in E flat K.543 [27:35]
Philharmonia, 23-24 July 1956, Kingsway Hall
Symphony no. 41 in C - “Jupiter” K.551 [28:51]
Philharmonia, 5-6 October, 24 November 1954, Kingsway Hall
Serenade in G - “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” K.525 [17:40]
Philharmonia, 25 March 1956, Abbey Road Studio no. 1 
