Boston doesn’t exactly have a love affair with Anton Bruckner. Berlin, on the other hand, treats the Austrian composer like a favorite son. The Berlin Philharmonic has made recordings of Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony under Claudio Abbado, Daniel Barenboim, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Bernard Haitink, Eugen Jochum, Herbert von Karajan, and Günter Wand, among others. If you want to hear a local outfit play the Fifth, your choices, on-line only, are Richard Burgin with the BSO (1959) and Benjamin Zander with the Boston Philharmonic (2007). Boston hasn’t heard a visiting ensemble in the symphony since Lorin Maazel and the Cleveland Orchestra in 1974, so the performance by the Berliners under chief conductor Kirill Petrenko Wednesday at Symphony Hall would have been welcome in any case. No surprise that the Celebrity Series presentation was a virtual sellout, or that conductor and orchestra did themselves and Bruckner proud.
Even an orchestra that has a century of tradition with this symphony has to deal with some performance questions. Bruckner, in his manuscripts, left little in the way of metronome markings or performance directions. His letters suggest that he expected conductors to fill in the blanks; we just don’t know exactly how. These days, you can hear Neeme Järvi zip though the Fifth in 62 minutes, or you can luxuriate in Rémy Ballot and Sergiu Celibidache, both of whom approach 90. But the evidence from early recordings by Karl Böhm, Wilhelm Furtwängler, and Hans Knappertsbusch posits a middle course: Allegros that are not too fast, Adagios that are not too slow, some license regarding tempo fluctuation and dynamic shaping within movements, and an overall timing of around 70 minutes.
Petrenko gave an idiomatic reading that didn’t try to reinvent the wheel. The four movements ran about 20, 16, 13, and 22 minutes, or 71 total. He took to heart the composer’s statement that “I always take a deep breath when I have something important to say.” I was also pleased to see his violins seated antiphonally, firsts on his left, seconds on his right, the usual arrangement in Bruckner’s day and the one the composer wrote for.
The Adagio introduction to the first movement was measured, majestic, Petrenko creating an air of expectancy as Bruckner modulates from B-flat major into one unlikely major key after another. The arrival of the exposition in a surprising and alarming B-flat minor was thus all the more effective. The main subject went at a moderate clip, p when it enters, ff the second time, as directed. The score doesn’t call for the music to inflate when it gets louder at this point. Many conductors slow down anyway. Petrenko didn’t.
Bruckner gave no direction for the F-minor second subject; it’s hard to know whether he wanted the same tempo or expected the conductor to make an adjustment. Petrenko relaxed just enough to signal the arrival of a new theme, sorrowful but not penitential, and then he followed tradition by letting the third subject accelerate almost to the speed of the first.
Throughout this movement, Bruckner’s architecture was never compromised. When segments of the introduction returned, they went at the original tempo; the same was true of the three subjects in the abbreviated recapitulation. Petrenko eased out of paragraphs, like the exposition’s codetta, without sacrificing their shape. He took the development at a speed that let you register the way the first subject gets turned upside down and inside out. A plaintive outburst at the end, first from the horns and then from the winds, bespoke the second subject’s disappointment at being excluded. The recapitulation blazed; a modest acceleration for the coda was just enough.
Tempo in the D-minor Adagio is problematic. The shape is A-B-A-B-A. Bruckner wrote the time signature as 2/2 and the initial tempo as “Sehr langsam.” Both Burgin and Järvi get through the movement in under 12 minutes. Karajan, on the other hand, approaches 22 on his Deutsche Grammophon recording, and Celibidache’s performances frequently exceed 24.
“Sehr langsam,” it turns out, is the direction Gustav Mahler gave for the slow movement of his Fifth Symphony. Mahler is reported as having taken that Adagietto in just eight minutes (which seems fast to our ears today). If Bruckner’s Adagio, which has twice as many bars, went at Mahler’s tempo, it would run 16 minutes.
That’s about what Petrenko delivered. His initial A section, at about 60 crotchets per minute, was quickish and lilting. It might have pushed the limits of Adagio, but it didn’t sag. He also balanced the pizzicato strings’ six beats against the opening oboe melody’s four so you weren’t listening to just one or the other.
There’s no new tempo for the two B sections. Some conductors take them faster, some are slower, some keep a steady pace. Petrenko, at 56, was in the last group. I always think these sections should go faster, but the important thing is to distinguish between A’s agitation and uncertainty and B’s consolation. Petrenko’s transitions were impeccable, he let the middle A section surge (in accordance with tradition) without getting hysterical, and in the final pages he conveyed the anguish of Bruckner’s chain of descending sevenths, ever in search of a resting place.
Bruckner’s sly sense of humor asserts itself in the Scherzo. It’s in the same key as the Adagio, which is most unusual. The “Molto vivace (Schnell)” main theme is a speeded-up version of the pizzicatos that open the Adagio; it bolts out of the gate, only to pull up after a mere 15 seconds and give way to a cheerful Ländler that’s marked “Bedeutend langsamer” (“Appreciably slower”). A complete sonata form whizzes by in five minutes, and the Trio that follows in just two.
Conductors, for some reason, tend to underplay the tempos here, with a main theme that’s not very fast and a Ländler that’s hardly slower. Petrenko threw a thunderbolt to start, and then his affectionate, heavy-footed Ländler channeled the Bruckner who was an accomplished fiddler and loved to play for village dances. When the Ländler reappeared, it even grew waltzy. The charming Trio was like a children’s hour.
Bruckner’s Finale is one surprise after another. Like the Finale of Beethoven’s Ninth, it begins with recollections of earlier movements. These are punctuated by a jaunty clarinet solo that not only turns out to be the main theme but gets to be the subject of a comic, march-like fugue—it’s as if the children from the Scherzo’s Trio had taken over. At the end of the exposition, Bruckner introduces a chorale; he writes a fugue on that and then couples it with the main theme in a double fugue. And just when the recapitulation seems to be proceeding normally, the third theme is joined by the main theme from the first movement, leading to the polyphonic fireworks of the coda.
Here Petrenko was swift and celebratory. The D-flat second subject scampered, its middle section barely heeding Bruckner’s “somewhat slower” request. The F-minor third subject stormed. Crisp clarity characterized the fugal sections; they got a bit more breathing room, and so did the chorale, which Petrenko prefaced with a dramatic pause. When the main subject returned for the double fugue, you could follow both themes, and then he gave the ghostly writing toward the end of the development enough rhythmic bite that it didn’t lose steam. The coda exploded, one thematic bombshell after another, the movement finally achieving B-flat major as Bruckner’s original theme reigns in apocalyptic glory.
All this was magisterial, and it goes without saying that the orchestra’s presentation was superb. The first movement could have been a smidge faster, the second a smidge slower; the Finale’s coda seemed unremittingly loud (Bruckner does mark it fff throughout). But Petrenko’s interpretation had the Bruckner essentials: pace, weight, polyphony, paragraphing, personality. In the BPO’s recent (2021) Bruckner symphony box, which was on sale at Symphony Hall, the Fifth is represented by Bernard Haitink, and though his performance (which I haven’t heard) must surely be a fine one, I have to think what Petrenko and the Berliners gave us Wednesday is right up there with it, and with the best in this great orchestra’s history.
Jeffrey Gantz has been writing about music, dance, theater, art, film, and books for the past 45 years, first for the Boston Phoenix and currently for the Boston Globe.
(1) With regard to the Adagio tempo, the Karajan, Jochum, and Celibidache performances that Mogulmeister cites are all quite slow, often well over 20 minutes. I suspect that 16–17 minutes is closer to what Bruckner, with his 2/2 time signature, had in mind. You can certainly argue that a slower tempo is more effective. But I wouldn’t call a middle-of-the-road choice like Petrenko’s rushed. Leon Botstein’s 14+, maybe. The 11+ of Järvi and Bergen, definitely.
(2) Mystified by QC’s critique of the performance by Nelsons and the BSO. They have, to my knowledge, never done Bruckner 5. Is it other Nelsons/BSO Bruckner performances that are in question?
Comment by Jeffrey Gantz — December 2, 2024 at 2:04 pm
Contrary to people’s belief, B5 is very popular and ordinary people just don’t realize that.
Its main motive is sung by millions of people every night, by my estimation.
A C1 A G F E Eb E B E1 (transposed for simple typing)
It might first start from Bayern Munchen FC. Fans there might think they were cheering with a tune from a pop band, sadly.
It has become very popular around the world among sports fans. Most fans sing the short version for motive development, A C1 A G F E, to cheer for their teams.
If you ask many music professionals about Beethoven 9th, they would say they know the symphony. They really mean they know that famous melody from the 4th movement since their childhood class. By that standard, B5 is very very popular too.
My observation may not be accurate. College crowds in midwest seem to love this tune in their American throwball games. Michigan Ohio St and such. Sorry I don’t follow that. The Oilers hockey fans sing that a lot. But I don’t think I hear that from the Bruins fans that much (could be wrong). Guess the Bruckner motive does not match the Bruins’ image very well. Not my subjectively negative opinion, but they (and fans) want be recognized as tough dirty nasty. Maybe there is a reason that Boston is not Bruckner crazy. I am humming that tune while typing. kind of hard to image Sam does that.
Comment by Thorsten — November 26, 2024 at 12:13 pm
Thank you Mogulmeister, I will study that video for material I can steal.
My game begins with a prelude in a monastery. In a spare, simple cell, diffused with miraculous light, the Holy Innocent, Brother Anton, is transcribing the Word of God in its purest form, music. A young novice enters, bringing fresh manuscript sheets, and taking away those that Brother Anton has filled. As he leaves, he shows a wicked grin, and is revealed as a minor demon named Schalk. In the hall, laughing, he scribbles on the manuscript sheets, brings out scissors and cuts several of them to shreds, and sets other pages alight with a lick of his flaming tongue.
Your role in the game is now assigned. Your task is to rescue the manuscript from the flames, reassemble the shreds, clean away the defacements, and return it to the pure condition in which the Holy Innocent received it from God.Though daunting, this task seems clear, and you undertake it with a will. After you begin to make progress, however, you discover to your dismay that this is a multi-player, and that there are other players, surprisingly many, charged with the same task. Worst of all, as you reveal your repaired and recovered pages, they also reveal theirs, and the pages are not the same! Violent disputes about methods ensue, and you begin to suspect that some of the other players are not real, but are actually demons in disguise, like Schalk. And then it is discovered that Brother Anton himself has scribbled on many pages, and cut some of them to shreds, and thrown others into the fire! Must he too be considered to be troubled by demons?
This is just the beginning of the Bruckner Wars. Is your real task to reassemble the manuscript, or to defeat the other players? And is resolving this dilemma the real purpose of the game?
Comment by SamW — November 26, 2024 at 10:42 am
Herr MMeister, Thanks for your kind reply!
I was not that sophisticated when I first wanted to write sth silly, more or less to reflect the craziness in this world/business. Initially I had the local C in mind. But since Kirill is low key and does not fit the role in the beer scene, I had to hire Rattle… And Mr. Society is in some ways like Miss Rabbit, Miss Rabbit here and Miss Rabbit there. I do enjoy some British TV episodes, including the childish ones.
To clarify, I did not follow Rattle’s BPO or Bruckner Society closely. I don’t think he ever conducted B5 in concert or recording. That gossip was only fictional. But the spirit was right. He does not think in Bruckner’s way (to put it mildly), yet he wanted to be a champion in the Bruckner HIP movement (the endless Urtext Bruckner editions). He has a B4 with LSO (a mainstream HIP orchestra?), in a score edition by your German C. These guys are all about marketing. Rattle returned to BPO with a B6 concert. He said he always had wanted to do B6 while he was Berlin, it was his favorite but he never had the chance until now… If you can read lips, he was saying, he was bored by Bruckner when there is no Bruckner HIP factor, he hated to appear silly before the BPO Bruckner traditions but he had to do it because of his employment by a Bavarian orchestra.
The key point I tried to make about the performance was the flute before the final notes. I admit hearing that 2 bars of flute melody amongst the heavy brass is ‘fresh’. But Abbado did it slightly more naturally. A conductor should never lose the control of the line for a short passage that he thinks interesting. Maybe, just maybe someone could do this properly and make it convincing. But the way Kirill did was horrible. I don’t want someone to slam the brake and cause me to rear end someone’s ass, possibly a Mr. Society’s.
Comment by Thorsten — November 25, 2024 at 11:01 pm
SamW, in the vein of your forthcoming video game, you must watch Classics Today’s editor Dave Hurwitz’ YouTube video, “The Bruckner Cult Gets Its Bible” if you haven’t already seen it. It’s side-splittingly FUNNY:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNdEg6TN6F0
Comment by Mogulmeister — November 25, 2024 at 5:33 pm
You were right, Thorsten, I was there, hoping to eavesdrop on internecine warfare between rival camps of Brucknerians, which is the background of the video game I am developing: “Bruckner vs. Bruckner – The Final Battle”.
Comment by SamW — November 25, 2024 at 5:07 pm
I’ve enjoyed this discussion since the concert. In response to several comments on the flutist, I can confirm that he actually was the very Sebastian Jacot whose imminent departure from the BPO was announced in September. Some of you may have noticed the bear hugs he received from some colleagues after the Bruckner.
Comment by MoRavel — November 24, 2024 at 7:58 pm
Thorsten, thank you! I cracked up at your comments (especially about the Bruckner tradition that goes way, way back to Abbado). Your mysterious “C” could be one of two people, both of whom are no longer with us. I’m assuming it’s the “C” that’s most closely associated with Rattle who was based in Germany, rather than the “C” based in the U.S. I’d love to chat further privately with you – feel free to drop an email to herrmogulmeister@gmail.com
Comment by Mogulmeister — November 24, 2024 at 3:12 pm
It was good to meet some good old Brucknerite friends on Wednesday night. I sensed MMeister was there. In fact we did not say hello to each other because each of us was busy doing our own pre-concert admiration ritual.
In virtuality, we had beer together after the concert. I was able to convince him not to invite C Mr. Bruckner-Society. Nonetheless, C still managed to join the conversation in a different way. MMeister and I gossiped like other music lovers. On a different layer of virtuality, rumor had it that Rattle wanted to approach Bruckner with the BPO tradition, which dated back only from 21st century Abbado in his mind. He picked up an interesting idea from Abbado’s B5. He was prudent, a Brit’s virtue, and must get authentication from Mr. Bruckner-Society. So Rattle and C had beer, to talk about the flute sound right before the final notes of B5. Quickly enough, the beer got in the way of their conversation till they left for home. Rattle woke up the next morning, completely forgot the conclusion on the flute. According to a witness, Rattle sent a text message to C, his face in forever dubiously drunk or red color, in German for some reason, sth like “Did Bruckner originally in his own original mind want the flute to be heard before the final notes in the original edition of the score?” Also in his hangover, C was quick to respond, “Ja”. Rumor had it that Kirill inherited this tradition and now audience will hear this: in the full throttle of brass before the final notes, the BPO conductor shuts up all instruments except flute from fff to ppp to allow them hear it for 2 bars, then fff to end.
I knew MM used to hang out with B3 1873 originalist camp. So I gossiped with great hesitation. Then someone who made me think was SamW sat close to us. Not to be laughed at for the camp questions, I quickly changed the subject to “we enjoyed the 1st movement”.
Comment by Thorsten — November 23, 2024 at 11:01 pm
That wasn’t Pahud playing his golden flute? The commentators at WQXR found themselves quite close to Pahud backstage on Monday night at Carnegie Hall, or so they said. I was in the second balcony center on Wednesday but even at that distance I’m sure I saw a golden flute.
Comment by Mark Lutton — November 23, 2024 at 6:56 pm
My wife and I attended the recent performance of Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony by the Berlin Philharmonic in Symphony Hall. It was a profound experience.
During the COVID pandemic, I subscribed to the Digital Concert Hall of the Berlin Philharmonic (a year’s subscription is considerably less than what my wife and I spent on two tickets in the second balcony at Symphony Hall). Since then, I have been working through the online catalog. I started at Z, knowing that if I started at the beginning of the alphabet, I would get caught in the Bs for several months, which is now the case. I have listened to Bruckner, Brahms, Beethoven, and many others and am now working my way through the 59 offerings by Johann Sebastian Bach and his numerous offspring. We have a reasonably good television and sound system, and I have enjoyed being able to both watch and listen to a performance. I have particularly enjoyed the performances conducted by Kirill Petrenko. My wife and I were anxious to see and hear a live performance by the orchestra and its chief conductor.
The Bruckner Fifth is a challenging symphony. The version chosen for the performance (there are many versions) is approximately 70 minutes long–a beginning challenge for many in the audience–and then there is the nature of the piece. As with many of Bruckner’s compositions, there is no single melodic line but rather a limited number of themes that are cut, crumpled, and mixed together in surprising ways. The result can be perplexing without a masterful conductor and orchestra; that was not the case in this performance.
The Philharmonic has always engaged outstanding conductors, and with Kirill Petrenko, it appears to have found a perfect match. Watching the orchestra perform is fascinating; the musicians pay close attention to one another. Petrenko is a very expressive conductor and the orchestra members move in unison to his direction; they seem to delight in playing together.
A brass chorale is a central part of the composition. It appears several times in different settings. However, at the end of the work, the entire orchestra joins as it builds to the joyous climax. The effect is overwhelming. When Petrenko dropped his hands, the audience members jumped to their feet (those that could), and the hall exploded with applause. The applause never diminished after several trips by the conductor off and on the stage and only ended when the players began to pack up their instruments. (Some orchestra members hugged one another–something I had never seen before.)
There may have been some missed entries or slurred notes on an instrument that is almost impossible to play. Perhaps some sections might have been faster or slower, louder or softer, but for me, and I suspect for many others, all of that was inconsequential. I have listened to several recordings of the symphony, but, at my age, I have trouble remembering one from another and find it impossible to compare listening to the symphony alone in a room with sharing the experience in Symphony Hall with two thousand companions.
Last night, the audience came to the hall on time, filled all the seats, were silent during the performance, and did not rush for the doors at the last note–all actions uncharacteristic of Boston audiences. As people reluctantly began to leave the hall, they smiled and laughed with friends and new acquaintances.
The other night, my wife and I may have experienced an example of the best that a group of people can do; we may not yet have experienced the worst.
David Parish
PS My only real complaint is that there was only one performance of the work and that the tickets were too expensive for many who hoped to attend–but that is my common concern about the structure of our society.
Comment by David Parish — November 23, 2024 at 8:50 am
What stood out most was the sheer dedication evident in every musician’s playing and in Petrenko’s expressive gestures, which embodied a commitment to the music that was palpable. This was, without question, one of the most unforgettable performances I’ve had in Boston. Witnessing the artistry of these musicians in person was nothing short of astonishing, leaving an impression that will linger for a long time.
Compared to this, Nelsons and the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s performance fell disappointingly lacking precision, depth, and emotional connection. If any BSO musicians or administrative staff were present, they should reflect deeply on the orchestra’s decline over the past decade.
Comment by QC — November 22, 2024 at 8:56 pm
A fabulous review by Mr. Gantz here. I’m in total admiration of one who makes observations first and foremost, and while his judgements are noted, allows the reader to come to their own conclusions.
Not too much to add, if anything at all to this, though I felt that conductor and orchestra have improved on their concert at the Proms last summer, as well as the following Digital Concert Hall rendition. Those I spoke with who were at Carnegie last Monday, felt that Boston got an even better performance 48 hours later.
Every time I have heard their Bruckner 5th, the attention to dynamics was beyond impressive. They also paced matters, both in tempo and dynamics so that the structure is very clear. Too many renditions are blasting ffff through the introduction, giving the image of a porch that is bigger than the house behind it. Doesn’t happen with the Berlin Philharmonic in 2024. I didn’t have a VU meter handy, but I had the impression that the loudest moment was during that bombshell of a coda (good description in this review!), which is where it should be. Also for me, the coda is most effective when the tempo is not leaden, as it certainly wasn’t on Wednesday night.
Finally, the comments about this performance, both here and elsewhere, provide a moment of irony. For it is the very rarity of a Bruckner 5th here that is inciting all the provocative thoughts. Seeing all this reminded me, for some bizarre reason, of the 6 weeks worth of letters to the editor of the Boston Transcript in the fall of 1889, many passionate and emphatic, that concerned
Arthur Nikisch’s interpretation with the BSO of the Beethoven Fifth Symphony. Could it be that we are better serving Bruckner by reserving this wonderful symphony for the rare occasion?
Comment by Brian Bell — November 22, 2024 at 11:51 am
Re Ty Webb, a most interesting point. Till the 90s at least, the orchestra branded itself as die Berliner Philharmoniker only in recordings – the cover of their concert programmes always read Das Berliner Philharmonishes Orchester, likely for contractual reasons. Now they are just the Philharmoniker.
Nothing beats how endearingly die Muenchner Philharmoniker translate their name into English – the Munich Philharmonics…
Comment by Louis Lee — November 22, 2024 at 10:04 am
Late-night lede writing
Comment by Lee Eiseman — November 22, 2024 at 9:38 am
At the risk of being pendantic, it is the “Berlin Philharmonic.” Adding “orchestra” or an “o” to an abbreviation is redundant.
Comment by Ty Webb — November 22, 2024 at 9:32 am
What a perfect symbiotic relationship–one discussion of structure, the other, of meaning. One, perhaps, for the professional musician, the other, for the listener. This performance, this composer, deserved both.
Richard Buell, a reviewer for the Boston Globe in its better days, and occasionally for the Intelligencer, considered the Berlin z Philharmonic the best orchestra in the world. It’s not hard to see (hear) why.
Comment by Bettina A. Norton — November 22, 2024 at 8:41 am
It’s not so often that a concert leaves me thinking for more than a day, but Wednesday’s certainly did. Where are the possible emotional loci of Bruckner’s Fifth?
The performance left me strangely cold AND fascinated at the same time. One could not but admire the techno brilliance of the orchestra (so many shades of colour!), and Bruckner’s antiphonal writing could not possibly have been brought to greater effect. Sometimes I had the feeling that, behind the magical orchestral wizardry (at times I thought the symphony sounded like a concerto grosso in Petrenko’s hands!), the reading was manicured to a fault. Yet, at the same time, the manicured wizardry was thoroughly engaging, and the reading was nowhere as distant as a Pierre Boulez, a name that came to my mind right after the concert. (A second name was Nikolaus Harnoncourt.) I suppose the Fifth is by far the most ‘intellectual’ – or conversely least emotionally immediate – of all Bruckner’s symphonies.
Petrenko took pains to the fragmentary nature (esp the first movement) of the symphony. To Kirill Petrenko, the climax of the symphony appeared to be the coda (re: the previous commentator), when finally some sort of catharsis was felt. Powerful though it was, it did not carry the sort of cumulative power one (I, at least) may have wished to see. Petrenko’s reading was decidedly not built upon sweeping emotional arcs (all the old school Austro-Germans: Boehm, Furtwaengler, Knappertsbusch, and the much underrated Schuricht, to name four). Quite interesting – while a keen analytical eye has always been the hallmark of a Petrenko performance, the emotional sweep in his Beethoven and Mahler (which I have had the pleasure of hearing live in past years) was nowhere to be seen here.
An analytical reading that engaged the mind a lot more than the heart, then, and one that commanded a lot of respect but did not have a lot of love!
Two more points about the magnificent Berliners:
1. it would have been nice to know the identity of the flautist, who was apparently on trial for the position recently vacated by S Jacot. With all the best wishes on Earth, I did not find the flautist of the night blend well with the orchestra, alas. Too bad Pahud was absent!
2. It was such a pleasure to hear Stefan Dohr’s magical playing (a couple of minor fluffs conveniently ignored here!). It was HIS opening solo in Guenter Wand’s recording of the Fourth that drew me to Bruckner.
Bis naechestes mal, die Philharmoniker!
Comment by Louis Lee — November 22, 2024 at 8:32 am
I was so happy to hear Bruckner’s 5th (B5) performed by the BPO and Petrenko in Symphony Hall and VERY GRATEFUL that this great orchestra took this exceptional (and challenging) symphony on the road in the year of the 200th anniversary of Anton Bruckner’s birth. (Even if that’s an anniversary that’s been shockingly ignored by the hometown team.)
I thought Wednesday night’s performance was exceptionally well-played (barring some noticeable flubs by the timpanist–who had a rough night with 4-5 entrances that were mis-timed and jarring in the moment–and a couple of blown entrances by the lead french horn – and both of whom played exceptionally well the rest of the evening). But to my ears, this was an earthbound reading that minimally connected emotionally (or if you will, spiritually – which is what this symphony seems to me to be about in the right performances). Or to quote the NY Times classical music critic, Zachary Woolfe, who heard the BPO perform B5 live at Carnegie Hall last week, the BPO’s performance seemed more “chapel” than “cathedral.” I thoroughly agree.
To my ears, any performance of B5 lives and dies by the interpretation of the 2nd movement. I hear it as the key to unlocking the whole symphony. If not done well – with the orchestra really leaning hard into the emotions and yearning that pave the way for the symphony’s ultimate destination/catharsis reached in the 4th movement – then it’s difficult to maximally deliver what the symphony so uniquely offers. I thought Petrenko’s reading of the 2nd movement fell far short, incredibly rushed to the point that it missed the essence of what the movement has to tell us. Were he and the orchestra trying to catch a plane somewhere? It seems most conductors have great hesitancy to really *lean into* the 2nd movement and to play it for all it’s worth, full throttle, and to let it emotionally rip – and I don’t know why that’s the case. It’s absolutely there in the music for the taking. Those relatively few that go there – such as Karajan, Jochum, Celibidache, and a small handful of others – take us to a supreme realm that most other conductors seem to not be aware even exists. I would add Petrenko to this larger list. And again, I have yet to hear a profoundly/spiritually moving performance of B5 when the 2nd movement isn’t fully-realized, because it sets up the rest of the symphony.
I also thought the 3rd movement was far less effective than it could have been, due to the fast basic speed Petrenko chose. Like the 2nd movement, it seems he just ran roughshod over so much of what the movement has to offer, and his conception focused on the jovial rather than balancing a far deeper, more complex set of emotions that’s absolutely there in the music and conveys a far more complex emotional tapestry, which I didn’t hear Wednesday night. And ultimately, while the 4th movement was really well played, to my ears the “setup” required from the previous movements wasn’t there, leaving the 4th movement emotionally inert while delivering decibels and sonic thrills that never amounted to anything more than that. I didn’t get any emotional or spiritual catharsis at the conclusion of this performance – the “oomph” that this symphony is so capable of uniquely delivering (and which can result in an out-of-body experience – truly!).
I generally loved the performance of the first movement. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the opening of the symphony done so well by any orchestra. The hushed intensity of the introduction was just superbly executed, and the BPO achieved awe-inspiring balances and generated smoldering intensity. It wowed me. And overall, the playing of the BPO was incredible, with exceptional balances and beautiful sonorities.
But there’s a lot more in Bruckner’s 5th symphony than I heard in Petrenko’s reading. For sure, it’s a difficult symphony to maximally pull off – and the BPO didn’t. But that’s not to say it was an unsuccessful performance, because it succeeded on its own terms if not as supremely as is possible. It was well worth hearing, very enjoyable, and I’m so grateful the BPO brought this performance to Boston even if it didn’t take us to the exalted heights this symphony is capable of reaching.
Comment by Mogulmeister — November 22, 2024 at 4:17 am