Critic’s Notebook: Manfred Honeck Scintillating with the VSO; Kavakos brooding in Korngold

Also published in Die Presse: Dirigent Manfred Honeck ließ im Musikverein die Funken sprühen

E.W.Korngold (& Barber) Violin Concerto(s) Gil Shaham / A.Previn / LSO DG (1994) US | UK | DE

L.v.Beethoven Symphonies 5 & 7 M.Honeck / Pittsburg SO Reference SACD (2015) US | UK | DE

Exuberance and Musical Joy with Manfred Honeck

The Vienna Symphony Orchestra, inspired-sounding, under the West-Austrian maestro from Pittsburgh

There aren’t many conductors who make you think: No matter what, where, or with whom – I need to be there and hear them. Manfred Honeck – who, over the past 17 years, has turned the fine Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra into one of the world’s most interesting ensembles – is one of them. Saturday night’s concert with the Vienna Symphony at the Musikverein offered ample reasons why.

Perhaps not quite yet in the Austrian premiere of Lera Auerbach’s Frozen Dreams, a joint commission by Pittsburgh, the Vienna Symphony, and the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde (alias dictus Musikverein) – where one’s ears were primarily busy just taking in the new music. Soundscapes (a bowed gong, singing glasses, eventually the string sections) gently crept forward, pushing against the rustling restlessness of the hall. A wry smile, recalling Alfred Schnittke, underlies the piece when Auerbach lets familiar-sounding tunes dart through the abstract tectonics of her musical landscape – or when she just brusquely wipes away those friendly gestures with a broad orchestral swipe.

Perhaps also still not quite in Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Violin Concerto: Not here, simply because the soloist, Leonidas Kavakos, was squarely at the center of it all. It’s pretty safe to say that this concerto has arrived in the repertoire: this was already the fourth time it’s been heard in Vienna this season, and thrice with major performers. In February with the Tonkünstler and Simone Lamsma and in May with the VSO (!) and Renaud Capuçon.

Kavakos, by nature not a grandstanding, overwrought kind of soloist, is perfectly suited to this music that straddles the concert hall and Hollywood. Full-bodied and penetrating, charged with inner tension, and – despite a surprisingly broad and heavy vibrato – never soupy, he set the tone for the performance. That even an intonation-animal like him brushes up against the limits of ambiguity in the tricky Andante shows that Korngold offers his performers beauty, but not ease. (Capuçon and Lamsma were cleaner, more distict here, though neither brought anything like his expressiveness to the work.) The finale buzzed and hummed with energy. After that, his encore – the Bach "Loure" from Partita No.3 in E major, abstract and played right at the edge – felt like a glass of ice water.

Finally, in the Beethoven, Honeck’s influence came into focus. There was so much to discover and enjoy in this Seventh Symphony, for all its familiarity. It started with the fundamentals: articulation, phrasing. The crescendos were organic. Even at breakneck speed, there was never haste; never panic over bungled notes. Never lost in minutiae, he kept the momentum flowing just right. Sparks flew with intensity.

P.S.: This merits a little rant: The VSO is bloody lucky to have Honeck return to them regularly (he will be back in October with Anne-Sofie Mutter!); the Vienna Phil insane for not trying to tie him to the orchestra of which he was a violist-member for ten years. Is it, because his brother Rainer is their concert-master? Something is decidedly amiss when the Vienna Phil evidently avoids a conductor who, on paper, would be a perfect fit, one who is among the best regarded, most exciting maestros of our time, and who has such ample feeling for the 'Viennese style'. He should have been conducting the bloody New Year's concert oodles of times by now, instead the orchestras he has conducted at the Musikverein include the Pittsburgh and Munich Philharmonics, the Vienna Symphony, the Webern SO, a bloody student orchestra, the Jeunesse Youth Orchestra, the Swedish RSO, the MDRSO, and the ORF-RSO... but not the Vienna Phil. Anyone suggesting that anything but politicking and shady Viennese machinations are the reson for this, does not know this snake-put of a town well enough, methinks.
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Critic’s Notebook: The VSO, Petr Popelka, Renaud Capuçon in LvB, Strauss/Strauß & Korngold

Also published in Die Presse: Konzerthaus: Die Symphoniker wissen, wie Schlagobers klingen muss

E.W.Korngold (& LvB) Violin Concerto(s) R. Capuçon / Y.Nézet-Séguin / Rotterdam PO Virgin/Erato (2009) US | UK | DE

L.v.Beethoven Rosenkavalier-Suite et al. H.Blomstedt / J.Y.Thibaudet / Gewandhaus Decca (2005) US | UK | DE

Viennese Double Cream, Manifest in Music

The Vienna Symphony Orchestra, under their chief conductor, show their spirited side again.

Hearing Beethoven’s Consecration of the House Overture live is a rare pleasure: late, brisk, and genial Beethoven, in a nutshell — sparkling and, especially under chief conductor Petr Popelka, played with the requisite vitality by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra on Saturday evening. What a difference a conductor makes, compared to the previous outing of flat-out-boredom!

That refined opening was followed by Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Violin Concerto — a work that, after a few decades of raised eyebrows, has now rightly claimed its spot in the standard repertoire. Its mix of luscious sweep and taut structure places it not far behind the most beloved examples of the genre. But both soloist and orchestra are called upon to respect those boundaries in either direction — lest the piece lose form, focus, or character.

Renaud Capuçon, a fundamentally solid and sound violinist, seemed unsure of which interpretive path to take and wrestled with the first two movements more than expected. The orchestra, by contrast, was in fine form — clear, nuanced, with that seasoned self-possession one hopes for. By the time the more assured third movement came around, Capuçon had managed to pull things together. His encore, Massenet’s Méditation (with harpist Volker Kempf), was a direct hit in the crowd-pleaser department, sappy, served on a bed of cold calcuation.

The kinship between Josef Strauss’s Dynamiden Waltz and Richard Strauss’s Rosenkavalier Waltzes may be obvious on paper, but by the time the latter shows up — so much other music has gone by, you’ve nearly forgotten the Josef. Overflowing, teetering on Salome-esque wildness, Popelka led it like a freshly stretched rubber band. Go figure: it can be done!

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Critic’s Notebook: The Tonkünstler, Fabien Gabel, and Simone Lamsma in a Viennese-as-it-gets Evening

Also published in Die Presse: Romantik ohne Kitsch: Ein perfekter Wiener Abend im Musikverein

R.Strauss Compl.Schlagobers-Suite N.Järvi/Detroit SO Chandos (2015) US | UK | DE

E.W.Korngold (& Barber) Violin Concerto(s) Gil Shaham / A.Previn / LSO DG (1994) US | UK | DE

A Perfectly Viennese Evening

February 15^th, 2025: The Tonkünstler Orchestra offered a night as Viennese — and sugary — as they come.

Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Tales of Strauss, a piano fantasy turned orchestral suite, is a delectable stroll through the Strauss family’s waltz garden. Played here by the Tonkünstler Orchestra at the Musikverein, it came in a lush orchestration — not by the composer himself, but with his approval. There were knowing smiles and gently nodding heads in the audience whenever a particularly familiar motif peeked through. If that doesn’t make your soul smile and chase away the day’s worries, you're in trouble.

Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Violin Concerto is no less Viennese at heart — even if the surface sheen might conjure Hollywood.After all: John Williams and his ilk all studied at the feet of the master (when they did not outright plagiarize him). Simone Lamsma played it in fine style, full-bodied and just a touch bristly: none too sweet — just enough to savor the heady tone without drowning in kitsch. The orchestra, under Fabien Gabel, surrounded her with lush romanticism — supportive but never smothering. That the audience responded with enthusiasm is no surprise: Op. 35 is one of the great underappreciated violin concertos of the 20th century — alongside, arguably, Samuel Barber’s and Wolf-Ferrari’s.

Finally, the bit the other Strauss — Richard — came up with, when he reached into the Viennese pastry box: His rarely performed but utterly charming Schlagobers Suite. The politely winking exoticism of the Coffee Dance leads to a nested romance for violin and orchestra, which concertmaster Lieke te Winkel navigated beautifully: Two Dutch soloists in one night! Echoes of the Rosenkavalier glimmer along the edges of this otherwise heavy, calorie-rich whipped-cream waltz. That the orchestra made it through the entire sugar-drenched program in such strong form — and without indigestion — is heartening, since Gabel is the Tonkünstler’s chief-conductor-designate.

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Critic’s Notebook: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 4

Also published in Die Presse: Konzerthaus: Chor Hui, Horn Pfui – Sängerische Götterfunken zum Beethoven-Abschluss

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

Choir Yay, Horn Nay – Divine Sparks to End the Beethoven Cycle

A grand – and long! – finale to the Beethoven cycle of Le Concert des Nations under Jordi Savall with Symphonies Nos. 8 & 9.

Historic, indeed, this first historically informed Beethoven cycle on period instruments at the Konzerthaus, which came to its fire-drunken conclusion on Thursday evening with Symphonies No. 8 and 9.

Rough and energetic was the entrance into Op. 93; one could almost glimpse the Flying Dutchman in the first movement, or premonitions of the Ninth. And yet it’s just the – ever-so-sprightly – little Eighth, languishing in its neglected place between the Seventh, “Apotheosis of the Dance”, and the über-Symphony, "The Ninth", that overshadows all.

Beauty of sound and orchestral color were not this ensemble’s priorities, on this occasion. Rather rhythmic urgency and raw energy are its strengths – at least in this Beethoven cycle. That a certain nervous tension creeps in from time to time is understandable.

Accordingly thunderous was the dramatic opening of the Ninth; the second movement hurried along more with speed than tension.

The Concert des Nations' Beethoven Symphony Cycle reviewed: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 1: A Squawking First Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 2: A Tale of two Halfs Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 3: Nearly Ideal Beethoven

Before the third movement, the latecomers – chorus, soloists, piccolo, creaky contrabassoon – entered the stage, and with them the black day of the horn player, whose downward spiral had already begun in the Eighth. A reminder, should one be needed, that even 75 years into the period performance movement, success on that instrument is never guaranteed.

Sensibly, the soloists were positioned at the front of the stage. Full-bodied and dramatic: bass Manuel Walser; the rest – unremarkable, which in the Ninth, especially with the ladies, is usually a good sign. Outshining them all was the chorus.

Just 36 voices, and yet they filled the Grosser Saal with an ease and volume, a physically palpable joy, enthusiasm, and energy that one had been hoping for from the orchestra for eight and a half symphonies. That was the foundation of the audience’s roaring enthusiasm. Ask ChatGPT
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Critic’s Notebook: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 3

Also published in Die Presse: Konzerthaus: Beethoven, fast ideal unter Jordi Savall

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

Near-Ideal Beethoven from Jordi Savall at the Konzerthaus

The third concert in the Beethoven cycle raises questions of venue – and musical standards. Here with Symphonies Nos. 1, 2 & 4.

The historically informed Beethoven cycle at the Konzerthaus entered its third and penultimate round Tuesday evening, June 24th, following two concerts back in February. This time: Symphonies One, Two, and Four. A quick peek into the archive: Apart from the Fourth – played in 2016 by the Orchestre des Champs-Élysées under Philippe Herreweghe – it was the first time these symphonies had ever been performed at the Konzerthaus by an original instruments ensemble. Remarkable.

After the last two concerts got off to low-octane starts only to rev up in the second halves, Symphony No. 1 hit the ground running. The first movement purred along with light-footed energy; the third was taken headlong, borderline hectic. The fourth movement begins with one of Beethoven’s most imaginative openings: the music takes five false starts – each getting a bit further, a bit higher – until on the sixth try it finally breaks through and takes off. Plenty of room for interpretive flair. Savall kept things tight in the buildup, then almost came to a hault from which he launched, casually and swiftly.

A common thread through all three symphonies: the timpanist. Snappy, pungent entries that added to the volatility of these performances. Likewise the strings – alert and springy, notes played on the balls of their feet, always driving forward. Intonation and rhythmic steadiness are near-guaranteed with Le Concert des Nations; only in the Fourth Symphony did things briefly go sideways, especially in the second movement – short-lived, but jarring. The cheerful clatter of the woodwind keys probably bothered no one; in the first movement, the insistent rhythmic pounding sounded like Beethoven nailing his manifesto to the gate of Romanticism.

The Concert des Nations' Beethoven Symphony Cycle reviewed: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 1: A Squawking First Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 2: A Tale of two Halfs Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 4: Choir Yay, Horn Nay

Symphony No. 2 – described in Leipzig in 1804, not flatteringly, as “a monster that writhes for a full hour in contortions and lashes about with its tail, for no apparent reason” – didn’t last an hour here, thank goodness, but still felt long. Mostly due to a somewhat sluggish Larghetto. The Allegro, though, skittered along on spidery legs, giving way to a taut, sharply drawn finale that ticked all the boxes. And yet – there was something subtly unsatisfying in the air, inviting investigation.

Why did everything feel so darn tasteful, so bloody correct – and why did the effect still fall short of what one expects from such performances? Why did all that energy poured into the music dissipate so quickly? Was it the relaxed quality – the ease, despite all the engagement – with which the ensemble played? More likely: it was the room. The sheer physical impact of this music doesn’t quite carry across the distance of the Grosser Saal. The dream – as unprofitable as it is unrealistic – would be to hear these very performances in the Mozart Saal. But you can’t have everything. Beethoven’s final symphonies follow this evening.

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Critic’s Notebook: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 2

Also published in Die Presse: Konzerthaus: Jordi Savall mit Dr. Ludwig und Mr. Beethoven

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

A Tale of Two Orchestras

The Strange Case of Dr. Ludwig and Mr. Beethoven at the Konzerthaus. Here with Symphonies Nos. 6 & 7.

Beethoven before and after the interval — seemingly two different orchestras. And yet, in the end, Jordi Savall and Le Concert des Nations do more to delight with their symphony cycle than they do to disappoint. In the second iteration of the second concert in Jordi Savall’s Beethoven cycle with Le Concert des Nations, it was the Sixth and Seventh Symphonies’ turn. And again: another hard-to-believe first. It was the first time Beethoven’s Seventh had ever been performed at the Konzerthaus on period instruments. The Sixth had made one previous appearance — in that aforementioned concert nearly 30 years ago, where Simon Rattle (!) had als conducted the Eroica with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. In many ways, it was déjà vu from the night before: a disappointing first half, a redeeming second.

Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arrival of the winds — woodwinds and brass alike — were in short supply in the Pastorale, even if the wobblier players managed to hide a little more effectively behind the string foliage. Savall’s fundamentally relaxed approach either suits the Pastoral perfectly — at least in the babbling brook. Or, depending on one’s taste, it misses the mark by failing to provide the very edge that this bucolic-leaning symphony sometimes needs.

The Concert des Nations' Beethoven Symphony Cycle reviewed: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 1: A Squawking First Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 3: Nearly Ideal Beethoven Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 4: Choir Yay, Horn Nay

Yes, the triplets in the first movement were untidy, and the tempo briefly went rogue, but one could have overlooked that charitably. Not the least because the second movement brought hope: delicately shaped notes, like ants scurrying across a picnic blanket. The thunderstorm that followed was more polite heat-lightning than an actual tempest: Even in the front row, no one would have gotten wet — but for the first time that evening, the ensemblework was all together. That, alas, didn’t last. By the fourth movement, it was back to business as usual — meaning back to the sour tuning: as if the winds had been tuned in meantone and the rest of the orchestra in equal temperament.

During intermission, Savall swapped out the horn section and brought in a fresh set of younger players. A bold choice, given the tricky horn parts in the Seventh — but one that paid off. And not just in the horns: everyone seemed a notch better in the second half. Marc Hantaï on flute, the oboes, and yes, the young horn pups (though in their enthusiasm, the second horn briefly outshone the first) all rose to the challenge. The Marcia funebre was deeply moving, not least due to its (presumably unintended) sense of distance. The clarinets suddenly deserved special praise. Presto and Allegro con brio piled on yet more momentum — as if this were an orchestra that simply shouldn’t be allowed to play slowly. Suddenly, there was dynamic range, too. And one was left scratching one's head: why the slow start? Then again, in Spain, things don’t really get going until nine o’clock anyway. In the end all’s well that ends well. Minutes of standing ovations. Apparently, there’s still real thirst for good period performances.
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Critic’s Notebook: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 1

Also published in Die Presse: Jordi Savall und die Tücken des Originalklangs

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

L.v.Beethoven, Symphonies 1-5 J.Savall, Le Concert des Nations Alia Vox SACDs

Squawk, Scratch, and Contrabassoon

Jordi Savall conducts a Beethoven symphony cycle on period instruments at the Konzerthaus. Unbelievably, a first. Here with Symphonies Nos. 3 & 5.

A "Beethoven symphony cycle". Well, that doesn’t exactly send shivers down one’s spine anymore. We’re practically tripping over the things. Every other week, it seems, someone’s cycling through the Nine, left and right of Vienna's Ringstraße and far beyond. And Beethoven on period instruments? That's welcome, sure, but a bit of an old hat by now. Or so you’d think.

And yet, Jordi Savall and his wonderful Le Concert des Nations have just brought a series of four concerts under way, in which they perform all nine symphonies at the Vienna Konzerthaus. This, the first of these, on Friday, the 22nd of February. Naturally all historically informed and played on original instruments. At a press conference prior to the concert, Savall spoke about his Beethoven project, which he’s been pursuing since 2018 and which has yielded some excellent recordings on his Alia Vox label — as if such a thing had never been attempted before.

Cue the instinctive eye-roll... promptly interrupted by a quick dive into the Konzerthaus archives. And lo: Not only has the Konzerthaus never hosted a Beethoven cycle like this, but Friday’s two offerings — the ever-popular Eroica and the Fifth — had essentially not been heard there at all in the HIP-setup. The Fifth: never, unbelievably. The Third: once, nearly 30 years ago, with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment under Simon Rattle [sic!] — long before the knighthood and the Berlin tenure... and kind-of nixing the HIP-credits of the performance.

The Concert des Nations' Beethoven Symphony Cycle reviewed: Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 2: A Tale of two Halfs Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 3: Nearly Ideal Beethoven Jordi Savall’s Beethoven Cycle at the Konzerthaus, Part 4: Choir Yay, Horn Nay

So: high time, and ears wide open, for what Savall & Co. might offer in terms of articulation, tempo, transparency, precision, and color.

What followed in the Eroica was, alas, a bit of a lemon. Yes, the tempos were taut and the opening chords — those twin gateposts of Romanticism — came whipping, right out of the gate. But that’s nothing unusual these days, even from modern orchestras with HIP leanings. And those old instruments? They wasted no time showing their quirks: notes that cracked, slipped, squeaked, and wilted. The overall sound had a tangy roughness, occasionally warm, often clangy — the warmth likely intentional, the rest, not so much.

Savall is not one of those period bandleaders who push for “faster, louder, edgier.” He’s more Brüggen than Norrington, always steering toward a kind of cultivated nobility within historical bounds. But if one claims refinement and elegance as one’s aesthetic, then things have to be — well — clean. And they weren’t. One couldn’t help wondering whether the whole thing might not have worked better in the Mozartsaal — acoustically, at least. (Commercially? Unlikely. The Großer Saal was already bursting at the seams.) In the smaller space, the symphony would have come across as more intimate, yes, but also more immediate, raw, radical — a paradoxical gain in impact through reduction in scale.

As it was, the performance remained colorful, spontaneous even, but ultimately harmless. And yes, playing natural horns is hard. A squeak or two comes with the territory and no one minds. But on good days, even those tricky beasts behave better than this. When the woodwinds play in tune — and they mostly didn’t — their advantages shine through: flutes in particular, characterful and mellow, with a rounded depth that modern counterparts rarely achieve. This is what makes period performance thrilling when it works: like a vintage car rally — infinitely more gripping than the modern F1, even if a wheel occasionally flies off. But this many wheels?

Speaking of which: one poor violinist had to make an unscheduled pit stop in the third movement — snapped a gut string, presumably — and only returned for the Fifth Symphony. And it was not just him, but suddenly, the whole orchestra sounded transformed! Savall kicked off the Fifth with a clarity of intent and momentum that had been entirely absent in the first half. The music surged ahead, energized and driven. A telling moment came in the fourth movement, just before the fanfare: a careful buildup, the tension palpable, and then — a snappy release. And anchoring it all: Katalin Sebella’s gloriously snarling, grittily resonant contrabassoon — and thus: promise.
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