Critic’s Notebook: Beethoven Tradition with the Vienna Symphony and the Singakademie

Also published in Die Presse: Flüssig und nie überhitzt: Beethovens Neunte im Konzerthaus

L.v.Beethoven Symphony No.9 Fricsay, BPh (1957) (DG, 2001) US | UK | DE

L.v.Beethoven Symphony No.9 Abbado, BPh (1996 live) (Sony, 1996) US | UK | DE

L.v.Beethoven Symphony No.9 Böhm, VPh (1970) (DG) US | UK | DE

Annual LvB9 from Vienna; Slobodeniouk-Edition

To round off the year, the beloved tradition of Beethoven’s Ninth returned to the Konzerthaus – with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra and the Singakademie

After a year like this one, it is hard not to view the lofty wishes articulated by the Schiller–Beethoven team in the latter’s Ninth Symphony with a measure of skepticism. How much reason is there, really, for fire-drunken exultation? What can the gentle wing of joy – music, whether Beethoven’s symphony or, say, Straussian waltzes – actually accomplish? Not all that much, to be honest. But what makes the text that Beethoven choose and adapted so appealing is that, almost immediately after stating its ambitious ideals, it concedes that not all men must become brothers right away – however desirable if somewhat naïve that aspiration may be. It’s perfectly fine to start small with a New Year’s resolution or glimmer of hope: Being a friend to a friend, for example, would already be reason enough for jubilation. Heck, even grumbling a little less, being a little kinder in moments when it is most difficult, would be a step toward that famous “embrace, ye millions.” Friedrich and Ludwig both knew: all good greatness begins small.

That insight applies, in a way, to music-making as well. No grand sweep, no overwhelming interpretation can succeed if the basic ingredients – the details – are not right. With the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, guided through the Ninth this year by Dima Slobodeniouk, they were. Engaged, fluent, without exaggeration and never overheated, the performance moved through the familiar work from the opening bars onward. The strings were in fine form, repeatedly finding their way back to a genuine pianissimo between the regular outbursts; the winds were lively; and the horns, for the most part, issued a faultless, even burnished sound. The slow movement unfolded in a gentle, calm atmosphere without grinding down to a halt. And in the Allegro assai of the finale, the bassoon's contribution was delightfully brought to the fore – or at least not pushed aside – bySlobodeniouk.

The details also aligned where the soloists were concerned: a well-balanced, evenly matched quartet singing from the organ loft. The young bass Alexander Grassauer opened proceedings with a large, aptly heraldic voice. Tenor Julian Prégardien sang brightly and naturally into the vast space of the Great Hall – especially welcome for the absence of violent attempts to be heard at all costs, everywhere. Much the same can be said of the women, Christiane Karg (pointed) and Beth Taylor (velvety), whose relative inconspicuousness in this work was probably more a virtue than a fault. The final vocal quartet, which had gone completel off the rails the year before, came off well this time. The Singakademie sohwed up in full force and contributed its share – particularly the energetic tenors – to the starry musical canopy this symphony is. Or can be.

With all these fine ingredients, one must be careful not to grow numb to the sheer stature of the work: to remember that a solid, unflashy interpretation – one that does not clamor for attention – can still ignite the Beethoven spark within us, rather than producing refined boredom. Slobodeniouk managed this very respectably, and fittingly, at the close of the year.


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