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University Centre Auditorium
January 29 and 30, 2022
For Carl Maria von Weber, the slow introduction to Beethoven's Fourth Symphony was "a display of the knack of spreading the fewest possible notes over a quarter of an hour".
Of course, as Sir Donald Tovey notes, Weber was "outspoken and honest and died before he had time to understand Beethoven". And, we might further remark, apparently before acquiring a reliable watch, as said introduction usually lasts just over two minutes.
It was with a spectacular account of the fourth that Christian Kluxen and the Victoria Symphony began their second weekend of Beethoven symphonies: a total of eight in four concerts. I had, perforce, missed the first two — my disappointment being slightly ameliorated by having attended the opening concert of the aborted 2020 cycle, featuring the "Eroica" and Fifth (review here) — but managed both of this weekend's and am mightily glad to have done so, even if the pleasure was not totally unalloyed.
Beethoven's Fourth might be his least-regarded symphony and I suspect that part of the reason is that, for the first time in the cycle, it is not entirely obvious that the work is a progression from its predecessor, but then, given that its predecessor was the "Eroica", still surely the most important single symphony in the history of music, to consider the Fourth as a slight retrenchment is surely no real criticism.
Kluxen and the orchestra clearly had little time for any naysayers and delivered a performance of at times almost overwhelming power, full of hitherto unnoticed detail and superbly played.
The opening featured a wonderfully deep pizzicato and beautifully poised wind chords, the pregnant slow introduction leading via explosive chords to a dramatic and extremely quick allegro. The exposition repeat was taken — setting a pattern which would be followed all weekend — and the overall sound was rich and full. Perhaps the dynamics were slightly over exaggerated, but it was certainly exciting. The slow movement flowed smoothly and featured an exquisite clarinet solo from Keith MacLeod. The ensuing scherzo was forceful, very quick and crisply rhythmic; the slight tenuto in the winds in the trio was exceptionally well managed. Once again the finale was fashionably speedy, with scurrying strings and excellent inner details. My only, slight, disappointment was that the tempo really was too fast for the "great bassoon joke" (Tovey again) to come off as it should, despite the sterling playing of Jennifer Gunter.
If I had to criticise the performance as a whole, I should say that it was missing that element of geniality which many find in the music. But I would not make too much of that, this really was a very fine performance indeed.
And this is probably as good a moment as any to remark on Kluxen's layout of the orchestra: violins divided, firsts to the left, seconds to the right, thus allowing Beethoven's antiphonal effects — and I had never quite realised just how many there were in this symphony — full rein. I'm not sure how the double basses felt about being separated from the cellos — they were arrayed at the back, above and behind the winds — but their position certainly meant that they could be clearly heard and, in any case, Beethoven was the composer who first set the basses free from their previous symphonic rôle of simply doubling the cellos at the octave.
The Seventh Symphony set out in similar fashion: smooth and flowing slow introduction, with a marvellous segue into the main allegro via Stephanie Bell's excellent flute. The movement's primary attribute — and quite rightly — was an apparently unstoppable momentum. The second movement is marked allegretto, a fact which seems to escape many conductors but not Kluxen, and the music was particularly well shaped. The speedy scherzo had a particularly slinky trio which very nearly came to a halt before the scherzo proper resumed.
So far, so good. The problem, for me, was the finale. For starters, after the two initial exclamatory gestures, Kluxen inserted a huge pause, which is absent from any score that I have ever seen and sounded distinctly mannered. The music then took off like a rocket, despite the fact that it is only marked allegro con brio (whereas the scherzo actually is marked presto). Most conductors will begin the movement at a fairly steady pace and gradually accelerate, which ratchets up the excitement; alas, when you start at this tempo there is "nowhere to go" without losing clarity: unlike physics, in music greater speed does not necessarily equate to greater momentum. So, despite the benefits of the orchestral layout at the climax, with the basses growling away under whooping horns and dizzying strings, the excitement was somewhat vitiated.
In sum: a very fine performance, but a distinct notch below that of the Fourth.
Sunday's concert began with the only exception to the general rule that Beethoven's even-numbered symphonies are less popular than the odd-numbered: the "Pastoral" (parenthetically, one might add that at its premiere, in the famous marathon Theater an der Wien concert of December 22 1808, it was billed as number five and the C minor as number six).
The big challenge here, for those conductors who wish to use Beethoven's still controversial metronome markings, is to perform the opening movement without sounded rushed.
I am pleased to report that in Kluxen's hands, while he adopted a fairly speedy tempo (although not as fast as some I could mention), the music never once sounded other than relaxed, despite some unusual and again, slightly mannered, rubato — although it was nothing like as dramatic as what we witnessed in the finale of the Seventh. This was couched in some glorious tone colours, especially from the strings.
The "Scene by the Brook" — clearly a fast-flowing one — was also delightful; Kluxen occasionally slowed down, as if to luxuriate in the sheer beauty of the sound the orchestra was producing and I, for one, am unwilling to fault him for that. And I must not omit to mention the exquisite and characterful birdsong from oboist Michael Byrne (a quail), clarinetists Keith MacLeod and Jennifer Christensen (cuckoo) and flutist Stephanie Bell (nightingale). Rarely have I heard this passage done better.
The scherzo (the "Peasants' Merrymaking") began at a rather steadier pace than expected but then suffered (the correct word, I believe) a sudden, somewhat jarring, acceleration; I did thoroughly enjoy the earthy trio though. The transition to the storm was deftly handled, dynamics were very good and the appropriately tempestuous playing was underlined by Bill Linwood's almost cataclysmic timpani.
The finale "Shepherd's song" was simply delicious, with lush tone from all sections of the orchestra, beautifully layered sound and a smoothly flowing tempo that never drew attention to itself.
Wonderful.
Finally, another undervalued symphony, the Eighth. Overshadowed at its premiere by the Seventh, Beethoven famously, when asked why the public preferred the previous symphony, growled "because the eighth is so much better".
Much as I love this symphony, I can only think of a handful of performances which serve to reinforce Beethoven's, perhaps deliberately contrary, opinion. Unfortunately, although it was mostly very good, this performance was not of their number.
As with the seventh the night before, the problem arose in the finale. Tempos throughout were quick, as we have come to expect, and for the most part they worked well. The tumultuous development of the opening movement, with splendid horn interjections, was thrilling and the movement's end nicely handled. The second movement had a marvellous bounce to its rhythm, even if it was a little too quick for clarity, but the ending provoked a ripple of amusement around the hall — and quite rightly so.
The third movement was taken at a good, steady tempo, although once again Kluxen indulged in the occasional unmarked tenuto and pause. Igor Stravinsky praised the trio's "incomparable instrumental thought", although I'm not quite sure what he would have made of this particular version, in which the cellos' triplets were played (exceptionally well, of course) by Brian Yoon, solo, while his cohorts were reduced to doubling the basses' pizzicatos. If there is textual authority for this, I cannot find it. The horns and woodwind almost made up for any doubt this may have engendered, but I cannot help but feel that the cello part is not intended to feel quite this easily played.
So far, so pretty good. Alas, as with the finale of the Seventh, Kluxen apparently decided once again to demonstrate that the Victoria Symphony can play this music at least as fast as any other orchestra.
Which they proceeded to do and it was indeed impressive, but was it exactly what Beethoven intended? I suspect not: the movement was always in danger of turning into a mindless whirlwind of sound. Having said which, the last chord was distinctly and authoritatively final in nature, which is not always the case.
To sum up the weekend: a revelatory Fourth, an excellent "Pastoral" and otherwise fine performances of the Seventh and Eighth undermined, for me, by harum-scarum finales.
On returning home after the second concert I listened, purely in the interests of research, to an almost-fifty-year-old recording of the Seventh: by another conductor whose initials were also CK and an orchestra whose home town also begins with the letter V.
Despite the many fine attributes of this weekend's performances and the almost uniformly superlative playing of the orchestra, I shall simply observe that there do remain still greater heights for Kluxen and the Victoria Symphony to aspire to.
Or what's a heaven for?
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