Reviewed by Ewart Shaw, Saturday 13th September 2014
When you need the solace that only music can bring, and Mozart is too sentimental, it must be, it has to be Beethoven, the Titan of the Romantic Age, whose life and music bridged the fall of empires, both of the 18th century and in the life of Napoleon, the 19th.
Ludwig van Beethoven, the great democrat, who matched himself as an equal with the Universe.
On Saturday I arrived, alone, at the Adelaide Town Hall and took my seat for the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra's
Beethoven Festival 1 concert. I knew two of the works on the program, the symphony, in this case the
Symphony No. 1, and the concerto known as the
Emperor. The other two, shorter, works on the program both possessed points of interest. At various times and for different performances, Beethoven wrote several overtures for his opera which he called Leonore, after the heroine, but which are better known under the alias
Fidelio, as indeed the heroine of the opera was known, when she disguised herself as a young man to rescue her imprisoned husband.
It is called the
Leonore Overture No. 1 though written later than the other overtures, is considered a slighter work than those, and lacks the dramatic trumpet all that signifies the arrival of the cavalry to save Leonore/Fidelio and her husband Florestan. It draws on the themes expressed by the imprisoned husband as he sees a vision of his wife, not knowing she's about to pull a pistol on the villain and save the life of the man she loves. The overture is marked by flowing ribbons of sound in the strings, simple melodic patterns with gentle movements, no great leaping intervals, and a quiet and sincere atmosphere.
It served as prelude to the first of the nine symphonies that are a keystone of the symphonic repertoire, in
Symphony No. 1 in C major Op. 21. It's a beautiful work, as they all are, and whether or not you subscribe the idea that the odd numbered symphonies are better than the even numbered symphonies, any one of them is full of delight. The performance was also an insight into the conducting style of Nicholas McGegan. I know his work as the conductor of many recordings and performances of Handel's operas. Watching him was a delight. His decorum on the podium was characterized by interpretive dance. Without using the customary baton, he used his right hand to draw an expressive performance from the orchestra. I found the string tone throughout a more somber and veiled colour than I would have expected but I'm beginning to suspect that that was an aspect of where I was sitting as opposed to a decision of the conductor. Watching an orchestra in a major work is really educational, as you can watch a theme move physically from the violins all the way round to the 'cellos and double basses, or a tune be handed gently from the flutes down to the bassoons. It was at the beginning of the last movement, the
allegro molto e vivace, that McGegan showed his hand, or rather his hands. After the sudden and enigmatic finish of the third movement, he turned to the first violins, and like the puppet master he is, he reached out over them and tugged on their strings. They sprang into the final movement with gusto. It was so enjoyable.
After the interval, rather than clamber over the people already seated, I stayed at the end of my row and fell into conversation with a patron who had come on spec., so to speak, and didn't know what the program was. She was pleased, I know, by the
Romance No. 1 in G Op. 40. Natsuko Yashimoto, the leader of the orchestra played with her usual security of tone and rhythm, and then returned to her seat as the leader for the final work, the
Piano Concerto No. 5, and here Beethoven failed me, and it was my fault. Stephen Hough, the soloist, is a renowned interpreter of Beethoven's concerti. I must have been tired. While the audience roared their approval, calling him back four times. I was unmoved. The orchestra played superbly well, the piano part just seemed like endless rapid arpeggios up the keyboard, followed by rapid arpeggios down the key board, and then back again with a little twiddle at the top. It's not that this emperor has no clothes. It's more that I expected more than I was capable of receiving. Sometimes we ask music to do things it just can't achieve.
Then on Tuesday morning, I woke up with the finale to the concerto running through my head, and all those cascades of brilliant sounds from the piano, and the swirling orchestral writing took over. It had just been waiting for me to wake up to it.
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