Welcome to the 108th work in the Slipped Disc/Idagio Beethoven Edition


Symphony No. 9 in D minor op. 125

It is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end for Ludwig van Beethoven, who has another dozen scores in him before death comes calling at the age of 56. He is not thinking about death. Nowhere does he mention the ninth symphony as a final testament. He has more to say, more to achieve, but in the years that he devotes to the ninth symphony he is forced to recognise that there is no point in him writing anything more for the symphony orchestra. It is the loudest instrument on earth and he is too deaf to hear it.

So this is a turning point, and an important one. If he can no longer hear an orchestra, he need not worry about what anyone, starting with musicians, think about his music. After the Ninth, he listens only to an inner voice and writes strictly for himself. His ultimate medium is the string quartet, four players in a tight circle who cannot let each other down. The 9th symphony will be Beethoven’s farewell to the public arena of the concert hall, his final retreat to the inner chamber of his hyperactive mind.

Twelve years have elasped since his last symphony, the defiantly frivolous 8th of 1812. There have been stops and starts. Sketches of the opening of the 9th appear in his notebook in 1817. A year later he appears to be writing two symphonies at once. In 1819 he is distracted by family affairs and writing the last 3 piano sonatas and the Missa Solemnis. In December 1822 he accepts a commission for the ninth symphony from the Philharmonic Society in London, a city he has never seen. He does not warn the English that the symphony has a choral finale, sung in German, because he does not yet have any idea how the work will end.

A thought has been nagging for years at the corner of his mind. In 1793, a friend reports that Beethoven wants to set Schiller’s ‘Freude’ to music (Friedrich Schiller’s ode to brotherhood first appeared in print in 1786). In 1811, he transcribes Schiller’s opening line into a notebook and reminds himself to ‘work out the overture’ for it. Later in the notebooks there is mention of ‘the Schiller overture’. In so far as we can follow Beethoven’s processes, he lets flotsam and fragments float around his mind until all fall into place.

The symphony takes up most of 1823. He struggles to get the first movement going. By the end of August he has about 15 minutes of music, but no clear path ahead. The serene Adagio takes him two more months. Finally, after taking another of his rest cures in Baden, he returns to Vienna with a sketchbook in hand, shouting, ‘I have it! I have it.’ The symphony is complete and he has written a finale which requires the additional forces of a mixed chorus and four vocal soloists: bass, tenor, soprano and alto.

The finale is not a total surprise. Beethoven had involved a chorus in the quasi-concerto that is the Choral Fantasia and was still very much in the sound world of the Missa Solemnis. The shock of the finale lies not so much in its originality as in its unexpectedness. In three preceding movements Beethoven takes us on a tour of all the developments has made to symphonic form. It is a leisurely journey, taing all of three quarters of an hour, longer than any symphony ever written before, and when he comes to the finale Beethoven is still in no hurry.

For six minutes, the orchestra continues in much the same reflective mood as before. Then, uprompted, with a spurt of pace and a shout from the bass singer ‘Oh, friends, not these tones’, everything changes. It is the single most transformational moment in musical history. Once this cry has been heard, there is no turning back to the servility of Haydn and Mozart. Music has claimed the right to change the world. It has the power of social confrontation and the potential to improve human life. It has taken leave of the tones that went before. Those words ‘not these tones’ are writen by Beethoven, not Schiller. He has broken with the past.

At the start of January 1824, he has an attack of human kindness and sends new year’s greetings to his brother’s widow Johanna whom he has been fighting for years through the courts. Perhaps the Ninth is making him a nicer man? Rich Viennese friends book the Theater an der Wien orchestra, the best in Vienna, for the premiere. Beethoven, despite his deafness, insists on conducting the performance. Maybe just the overture? friends suggest. No, says Beethoven: the whole concert. Rehearsals are fraught. The concert announcement says that ‘Herr Ludwig van Beethoven will himself participate in the direction’. He is unsure, up to the last minute, whether the censor will permit the performance.

At seven in the evening of May 7, 1824, Beethoven mounts the rostrum of the Theater am Kärntnertor. He is wearing a green coat because he does not own a black one. The royal family are out of town, along with much of the nobility. But musicians and the middle classes surge to the hall, aware of the momentousness of a new Beethoven symphony. Some are borne from their deathbeds on stretchers. It is truly a once-in-a-lifetime occasion. The violinist Joseph Böhm writes: ‘Beethoven himself conducted – that is, he stood in front of a conductor’s stand and threw himself back and forth like a madman. One moment he stretched to his full height, at the next he crouched down to the floor, he flailed about with his hands and feet as though he wanted to play all the instruments and sing all the chorus parts.’

The second movement is interrupted by wild applause. Beethoven is oblivious. At the end, the soprano plucks his sleeve and points to the clapping, cheering, foot-stamping audience. ‘My triumph is now attained,’ replies Beethoven, but the concdert loes money and a repeat performance 16 days later loses even more. He accuses friends of cheating him and writes to several publishers, trying to sell them rights in future works. Any happiness he derives from the triumph has dissolved.

It is important to appreciate the circumstances of the 9th’s creation, to grasp the misery of its creator. He is in contant pain, short of money, fearing betrayal by those closest to him, cut off from them by his now-total deafness. To conduct the Ninth without staring into these depths amounts to a travesty of its conception. There are many performances on record which barely touch the surface. Before I examine the entire recorded archive in the next couple of posts, here are two which plumb the depths.

The conductor Felix Weingartner, who knew Brahms and Wagner, recorded Beethoven’s 9th in 1935 as an informed synthesis of both streams of tradition. It is a cornerstone of recording history. Listen here.

Jascha Horenstein, who fled Nazi Germany and lived in relative poverty in the US and Britain, made a recording of the ninth in Vienna in 1956, using players from the Vienna Philharmonic under a fake name and soloists of the highest calibre. This, too, earns its place on any extended shortlist. Horenstein was a modernist, always looking ahead to the next musical evolution. Listen here.

To be continued tomorrow.

The great violinist will turn 75 next week.

 

The song they are performing is the Hebrew original of Psalm 23, The Lord is my Shepherd.

The Romanian lyric-coloratura soprano Constanța Adriana Mesteș has been found dead in her apartment after several days of not being seen.

Born on April 7, 1956 in Timișoara, she became a soloist of the National Opera in Iasi, eventually winning recognition in the Bulgarian capital, Sofia.

She won many awards for Lieder singing.

A recital by Denis Matsuev at Sochi, the first since the pandemic began, was disrupted by local police, acting on information from social media.

After checking the distancing arrangements, they issued the pianist with a formal warning – not knowing, obviously, who’s his best friend.

The celebrated Dutch opera singer Cora Canne Meijer died on Tuesday at the age of 91.

After a 1950 debut with Dutch Opera in La Traviata she joined Zurich Opera in the 1960s, returning home as a popular Carmen. She appeared at Glyndebourne in Le Comte Ory and was still on stage in Andrea Chénier in 1996.

 

The London Symphony Orchestra will resume work next week, ‘moving to LSO St Luke’s, newly equipped with state of the art facilities,’ so long as the Barbican remains stubbornly closed.

This is a bold act of self-empowerment on the LSO’s part.

Three orchestral concerts are scheduled at LSO St Luke’s, conducted by Sir Simon Rattle and including Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle.

Lunchtime and drivetime concerts will be open to live audiences at LSO St Luke’s.

Rattle said: ‘Audiences will be used to the LSO’s performing virtuosity, but in our new situation we have had to be quick on our feet and become virtuosos of programming! We realise how lucky we are to have LSO St Luke’s and we have moved at lightning speed to transform it into a modern filming and recording centre which can accommodate anything from chamber concerts to a medium sized orchestra.

‘It has been fascinating to put together programmes for all kinds of groups from 2 players up to nearly 70, and we have taken the opportunity to explore composers and performers that we have long wished to be part of our family. There is a new emphasis on music by female composers and also composers from ethnic minorities. I am particularly excited to give the UK premiere of George Walker’s Sinfonia number 4, Strands. He was the leading African-American composer up to his death aged 96 two years ago, and his music has been unaccountably neglected in Europe, despite its immense strength and integrity. We hope this will be just the start of a LSO exploration of his work.

‘There will be 14 orchestral concerts and a whole series of Friday lunchtime chamber concerts, and we feel blessed to be able to perform together once more after all these months. I would like to pay tribute to the orchestra and the entire organization for remaining so resourceful and typically positive throughout this difficult period, and I can’t wait to make music again. It will seem like Feast after Famine.’

The pianist Peter Donohoe posts: ‘I am extremely happy to be able to announce, after many months of uncertainty, that my performance of Tippett’s wonderful piano concerto with the London Symphony Orchestra and Sir Simon Rattle will go ahead in the LSO St Lukes Centre on 23 September at 6.30.

‘This will be my first public appearance since the end of January in Moscow. It will such a thrilling experience to once again see musicians arriving with their instruments and to get down to some serious music-making. And what great colleagues I am lucky enough to be working with on such an optimistic and joyful work – one that I have long held to be one of the very greatest British piano works.’

The conductor has issued a statement, denying BBC leaks that she demanded the removal of Rule, Britannia.

Here it is:
‘I am so honoured to be part of this year’s BBC Proms and its iconic Last Night.

‘I understand its prominence in the UK classical music calendar and wider cultural landscape. It is incredibly exciting to be part of an event with such long standing tradition.

‘It is testament to the unfailing work and commitment of the organisers that the Proms can proceed at all this year.

‘However, in recent days there has been a good deal of inaccurate speculation about my role in determining the format of this year’s Last Night of the Proms.

‘This false speculation has led to abuse and threats towards me and my family which is why I am speaking out.

‘For the record I have played no role in deciding the traditional elements of the programme, I recognise these are an important part of the event.

‘I’ve been wrongly portrayed as a person who tries to influence political debates – this is not true. I am an artist, I want to be able to speak through my work to bring people together and build solidarity.’

So if it wasn’t Dalia, who at the BBC demanded the muting of the anthem? If the BBC wants to protect its conductor, as it claims, it must name the guilty party in order to put her totally in the clear.

 

Buried in a press release today we find that ‘retiring members James Barnes (stage personnel), Eric Carlson (trombone), Robert W. Earley (trumpet), Robert M. Grossman (principal librarian), John Hood (bass), Robert Kesselman (bass), and Booker Rowe (violin) were honored for their combined 200+ years of dedicated service.’

That’s quite a lot in one close-season.

‘The significance of these retirements is immense,’ said Orchestra President and CEO Matías Tarnopolsky. ‘Each retiree is a beloved member of our Orchestra family and represents a significant part of the Orchestra’s history and sound. We will miss them all greatly. As we look to the future, we will explore ways of ensuring that new, diverse talent can be found to fill the vacancies.’

Ah, so that’s it.

UPDATE: Among those reitirng is the orchestra’s first Black musician, Booker Rowe. There are three left in the ensemble.

The Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra is to resume live performances with audience from October 1.

Each concert will be one hour with no interval. Seating is limited to 240 people, with two-metre social distancing. The orchestra, also be socially distanced on stage, will be limited to 30 players.

There will be 14 one-hour, socially-distanced concerts at Philharmonic Hall from 1 October to 4 November, with more to be announced shortly. Performers include Artist in Residence baritone Roderick Williams and Young Artist in Residence pianist Isata Kanneh-Mason.

Unlike the London orchestras, which are dependent on the South Bank and Barbican to open before they can give concerts, the Phil in Liverpool manages its own hall.

These are its opening events:
Joshua Weilerstein conductor
Thursday 1 October 7.30pm and Sunday 4 October 2.30pm
Mozart Divertimento in D
Shaw Entr’acte for String Orchestra
Ives The Unanswered Question
Beethoven Symphony No. 4

Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra
Andrew Manze conductor
Thursday 8 October 7.30pm and Sunday 11 October 2.30pm
Sibelius Suite, Mignonne
Beethoven Grosse Fuge
Schubert Symphony No. 5

 

A survey by Encore, the UK’s largest online musician booking platform, suggests that after five months of Covid inertia two-thirds of the profession is looking for career change.

The survey is of a small sample – 560 musicians – but the results are alarming.

– 64% musicians are thinking about leaving the music profession

– Musicians have lost on average £11,300 each from cancellations since March

– 41% of musicians have no bookings in the diary for the rest of 2020

– Classical musicians are faring worse than other genres.

Source here.

This is alarming. I don’t know if Boris Johnson has a favourite violinist – Tasmin Little, I’d guess, not Nigel Kennedy – butif he does now would be the time to put on a musical soirée at Downing Street, just to restore hope to the profession.

 

The Estonian National Opera conductor Jüri Alperten has died after a long illness.

He devoted most of his career to the opera, while also serving as chief conductor of Pärnu City Orchestra from 1998 until last year.

 

The Hanover Band had been planning to perform a Beethoven symphony cycle to mark its 40th anniversary and the composer’s 250th.

But its director Caroline Brown (below) died of cancer two and a half years ago, still planning the cycle from her hospital bed, and then Covid-19 struck and all performances were cancelled.

Undaunted, the pioneering period instrument ensemble are going into Stationers Hall in London this week to complete a recording of eight symphonies (the 9th will have to wait). The band raised £163,000 for 14 days of recording. The symphonies will be released from October.

UPDATE: The cycle is being conducted by Benjamin Bayl, whom Caroline Brown appointed Associate Director of the Band.