IN: Reviews

What’s in a BSO Cartouche?

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Concertmaster Nathan Cole (Robert Torres photos)

There are, by our count, 93 cartouches in the Symphony Hall auditorium, presumably for inscribing the names of the great composers of the Western classical tradition (there are similar arrangements, of course, in other such rooms; at the Musikverein in Vienna they also have busts). The only name on which the great and good of Boston circa 1900 could agree, apparently, adorns the large one at the top center of the proscenium, and it is in his honor that the BSO is devoting the next several weeks in an intense survey of the nine great symphonies that so changed the course of musical history. This would doubtless gratify the shade of the Rev. John Sullivan Dwight, the self-appointed arbiter of musical taste to the 19th century’s self-anointed Hub of the Universe, for whom the name Beethoven could only be spoken with the reverence due a deity. While a lot of musical water has flowed under the bridge since then, it is not amiss to return every so often to this foundational figure whose influence is felt even by those who (inevitably self-consciously) reject him.

There have been numerous surveys of The Nine by BSO conductors, but by packing all of them into four consecutive programs, and in sequence, the BSO’s current Music Director Andris Nelsons is, apparently, only the second BSO leader to take them on this way, after the 1927 Beethoven Festival put on by Serge Koussevitzky for the centennial of the composer’s death. The current one does not directly coincide with any such anniversary, but on account of the calamity of the Covid pandemic that disrupted life in so many ways starting in 2020, one may regard this as the delayed Beethoven 250 commemoration (the BSO did stage some videocast performances that year from an empty hall, but their scope was not up to what the occasion required). The monthlong festival this year includes a number of non-orchestral programs as well highlighting Beethoven’s contributions in other areas, such as piano, string quartet and vocal genres.

All this said, what resulted? Thursday’s opening concert, a long one by contemporary BSO standards, set out the first three symphonies, which gave Nelsons the opportunity to make a historical as well as musical statement, namely that the “revolutionary” Eroica did not come out of nowhere, but continued and accelerated tendencies begun in Beethoven’s two “Haydnesque” efforts. He made the case quite strongly.

The Symphony No. 1 in C major, op. 21 (1795-1800, premiered in 1800, the BSO program book non obstante, published 1801) was, unsurprisingly, the work of someone who had thoroughly digested the mature output of his most accomplished predecessors, Haydn and Mozart. At 29, Beethoven was no kid, but as a newbie symphony composer he wanted to be heard as a distinct voice (remember that his op. 20 was the Septet in E-flat Major, which, infuriatingly to him, remained his most popular composition during his lifetime), which this symphony did in spades, starting with a slow introduction starting with a dissonance resolving in an incorrect key, cheekily meandering through several keys before getting around to the main event. An analysis of the work itself seems superfluous here, but Beethoven deployed state-of-the-art techniques for the period and pushed ahead of the crowd in numerous respects. Nelsons and the orchestra sounded superb in all respects, with the former setting a standard for the whole evening of highlighting the sectional antiphonies and dynamic quiddities of Beethoven’s scoring, and adding a penchant for crescendos and decrescendos of minute gradations, which the latter executed with head-shaking precision. We have never heard such clarity in tremolos as the BSO strings produced; wow. Nelsons’s tempi ran appropriately brisk—the “con moto” part of the second movement’s tempo indication really meant it. That andante, whose exposition repeat Nelsons commendably took, also impressed with tympanist Daniel Bauch’s most delicate and distinct strokes. The roustabout “menuetto,” as misleading a title as ever there was, also occasioned an ebullient yet exact report, with remarkable delicacy in the trio (it’s notated p, but Nelsons’s version was more pp). Alexander Velinzon, sitting in the concertmaster’s position for the first half, pleased us with his delicacy and precision in the brief slow introduction to the finale, which led to a rollicking, jolly, sparkling movement, whose coda foretold the ones for which the term “Beethovenitis” was coined (if you don’t already know it, listen HERE for Dudley Moore’s classic Beethoven parody). Bottom line: this may well have been the best Beethoven 1 we have ever heard.

It came as something of a surprise to learn from Jan Swafford’s festival essay that the BSO has performed the Second Symphony (in D major, op. 36, 1802) more often than it has the First (174 to 144), since anecdotally it always seemed that the Second was about the least performed of all. In general this piece is regarded as a light-hearted work, less raucously insouciant than the First but robustly joyful, the better to contrast it with the depressed and suicidal frame of mind the composer was in at the time (it was written in Heiligenstadt at the same time he wrote his Heiligenstadt Testament). Its role in the narrative of this BSO installment is to show how Beethoven expanded on the First, just two years later, to take the Classical style nearly to the snapping point. And while yes, its overall demeanor is cheery, its surfaces do sometimes take on darker hues, which Nelsons pointed up whenever the opportunity presented. It’s also the symphony that first presents, picking up on the hints from the First, the classic “second development” type of coda. The larghetto second movement (sounded more adagietto to us, but let that pass) brought thoughts of whether this was the spring from which all Schubert sprang, tender with dark dapples. Nelsons’s priorities with performing the Second continue those of the First, with strong attention to dynamic and rhythmic contrasts, notably in the (now so named) scherzo. There was not a speck of flab on the ensemble work in the finale: the phrases sprang and leapt.

To an even greater extent than with the earlier symphonies on the program there is no need here to go into the history or structure the Symphony No. 3 in E-flat Major, op. 55, the Eroica. What Nelsons wanted the audience to notice about it was how it took many of the gestures and occupations of the First and Second—the dynamic contrasts, the contrapuntal complexity, the restless modulation, the rhythmic slicing and dicing (famously with the off-accents in the first movement)—and as Karl Marx put it, turned a difference of degree into a difference of kind. To this, of course, Beethoven also added genuine novelties, which is why it’s still a mainstay of the repertoire. The only area in which Beethoven didn’t innovate significantly in this work was in its instrumentation: apart from the third horn it is the same as the earlier symphonies (leading perhaps to a sonic weakness in the restatement of the finale theme in augmentation—one could really use some lower brass there).

Nelsons’s reading of the Eroica may have introduced elements that reasonable minds could find more objectionable than with his takes on the earlier symphonies, though we were well pleased with the outcome. His very brisk opening tempo was compensated by a slackening for secondary themes; his big chordal blows were more slashes than sledgehammers, despite his punching the air to cue them. Nobody could reasonably object to his exquisitely gradated crescendos and diminuendos, though the starting and ending points might have been a bit more exaggerated than the score would suggest (big shout out to concertmaster Nathan Cole for his scarcely audible pianiss-etc.-imos). The first movement was full of urgency and impetuousness. The funeral march was possibly the most perceptively organized we’ve heard, through tempo and rhythmic shaping, creating a pellucid trajectory. The scherzo tune came from near nothing to a big, robust joviality. The trio’s horn tune took a big ritard to start with, a remarkable effect (and of course perfectly played by Richard Sebring, Jason Snider and Austin Ruff). Nelsons further entertained us in the finale with the occasional Luftpause, but kept everything under immaculate control while conveying the depths and heights of the hero’s rejoicing. And that augmentation passage greatly benefited from careful timbral balancing so that it didn’t sound as trumpety as it often does.

Our experience with the Eroica goes back to the 1960s with Bernstein conducting the NY Phil; it sure felt like the riveting Nelsons had outdone Lenny on this occasion. We hope this level keeps up for the rest of the festival, and if so, the BSO may be able to lay claim to being *the* Beethoven orchestra of the day. J. S. Dwight would approve, but we can live with that..

Vance R. Koven studied music at Queens College and New England Conservatory, and law at Harvard. A composer and practicing attorney, he was for many years the chairman of Dinosaur Annex Music Ensemble.

12 Comments »

12 Comments [leave a civil comment (others will be removed) and please disclose relevant affiliations]

  1. Mark, I have not heard Gunter Wand’s Beethoven 3, although I’ve heard it’s well-regarded. I’ll keep my eyes open for it. I still have not forgiven Wand for canceling on the BSO in 1991 (hahaha), when he was scheduled to conduct Bruckner’s 8th but decided that crossing the Atlantic by plane during the Gulf War was too dangerous. Instead we got Heinz Wallberg, who I had never heard of before, and whose performance of Bruckner’s 8th was indistinct. Boston got the worst of that trade, unfortunately.

    Comment by Mogulmeister — January 13, 2025 at 10:04 pm

  2. A lovely concert on Saturday. Some interpretive decisions I’d prefer to see done another way– the Da Capo repeats were removed wholesale in 1 & 2. Not a problem with longer movements, but here it leaves the restatements sounding like limericks without their second line.

    Also, following on Honeck’s otherwise stunning performance a few years back, he took the Eroica funeral march noticeably slower than Beethoven asked for. (A tempo also useful for another piece of Viennese outdoor military music written a century later, as presented by the composer on piano and Leinsdorf/BSO.)

    The only other small quibble is that there were a few moments in the First that were a tiny bit muscle-bound and not quite so transparent as others. Much of the time, of course, a large string section was no problem, and the BSO’s is in excellent form. But perhaps some Mahlerian intervention in removing a few stands from time to time might have cleared up texture and allowed more flexibility in spots.

    This is probably a combination of Beethoven having less experience writing for orchestra, and/or expecting smaller sections. If nothing else, his rhetoric is more chamber-like than in the more corporate 2nd Symphony, inviting rubato normally used by singers and/or piano improvisers.

    Otherwise, the playing was often staggerinly crisp and transparent, with excellent contrasts in dynamics and (mostly) well-chosen tempi.

    Now to savor the next bunch, and hope that the Maestro will dare play the 7th’s Trio at the requested speed.

    Comment by Concordia — January 13, 2025 at 12:28 pm

  3. Corroboratng Vance’s appreciation of the larghetto movement of the 2nd symphony, I read in Lewis Lockwood’s book that “The Larghetto is a gem of the first water. This is Beethoven’s first truly mature orchestral slow movement” — exactly what Nelsons made us hear? (As for the second theme, or subject, of the first movement, Lockwood characterizes it as having “the flavor of a military march” — again, exactly what Nelsons made us hear, with a call to rally against darknes and a resolute defiance.)

    Comment by Ashley — January 13, 2025 at 9:49 am

  4. Thanks, Vance; I did that and it seemed to clarify things only a little :) .

    Comment by David Moran — January 12, 2025 at 4:38 pm

  5. @David Moran, I think the problem with the Swafford quote was just a typo. Change “than” to “that” and you have a perfectly intelligible remark.

    Comment by Vance Koven — January 12, 2025 at 4:22 pm

  6. Apologies: I was at the Friday matinee and the last notes of several of the horn fanfares were not tip-top.

    Comment by Mark Dirksen — January 12, 2025 at 4:01 pm

  7. MM – many thanks!

    In turn: Have you the Günter Wand 1980s set? It came recommended by that annoying know-it-all on YouTube but he got that right. It’s astonishingly consistent & affecting, and the horn trio in the Eroica Scherzo is absolutely spot on which I cannot say for Thursday’s performance.

    Thanks again.

    Comment by Mark Dirksen — January 12, 2025 at 3:59 pm

  8. I concur in every point Vance Koven makes about this extraordinary concert from Thursday. Such dynamic range, and such idiomatic understanding and conveyance of Beethoven becoming Beethoven, Symphony 2 especially.

    Now, I wonder if someone can parse this Jan Swafford program note line for me:

    >> The bass line is something near nothing than can be the foundation of anything.

    (In the early 1970s, almost a decade into his Globe career, the German-born musicologist and critic Michael Steinberg sometimes got teased if not outright criticized for his syntax. RJ Lurtsema even spent the first five minutes of a WGBH interview with Steinberg going on about it. But I believe Steinberg never wrote anything like that that sentence.)

    Comment by David Moran — January 12, 2025 at 3:50 pm

  9. Hello Mark. Klemperer has two studio recordings of the 3rd symphony, the mono one (recorded in 1955) and the stereo one (recorded in 1959 but released in 1961). There’s also some live versions floating around as well, most notably the 1960 performance from the annual Vienna Festival where Klemperer and the Philharmonia did a complete Beethoven symphony cycle live (and it’s fantastic). Klemperer’s entire output was re-mastered by Warner/EMI when the complete Klemperer box set was released in 2023. And the re-masterings are generally a noticeable improvement over the previous versions. If you want to splurge and like Klemperer as a conductor, the box set is a no-brainer. If you only want Beethoven 3 in stereo, I’ll provide two links:

    The un-remastered version: https://tinyurl.com/4vux44sh

    The re-mastered version (apparently from Japan and well worth the extra cost in my opinion for what’s a definitive performance): https://tinyurl.com/4ps66hms

    Good luck!

    Comment by Mogulmeister — January 12, 2025 at 1:01 pm

  10. MM – Was Klemperer’s stereo Eroica 1959 or 1961? I find conflicting dates. I also agree that AN tends to micromanage. I think I like him better in the slow movements, though – the ppps are remarkable!

    Comment by Mark Dirksen — January 12, 2025 at 12:33 pm

  11. What a superb, spot-on review, Mr. Koven! I entirely agree with your analysis and conclusions. The bottom line for me: If Thursday night’s BSO performances of Beethoven Symphonies #1-3 are the standard for the rest of this cycle, this will be remembered for a long time to come as one of the highlights of Nelsons’ years in Boston.

    Nelsons and the BSO did a tremendous job overall with Beethoven’s Symphonies #1-3. The plusses: Incredibly vibrant playing from the BSO that was fully committed and the opposite of being on automatic pilot (which is a risk for music this familiar and as frequently played), dramatic “big band” readings that made an impact and delivered a considered point of view, a sense of occasion that permeated the performances by the orchestra, wonderful prominent brass that never went beyond the tasteful, very rich strings and beautiful playing from the woodwinds, and especially an energized Timothy Genis who gave us more muscular timpani than we might typically hear from him – which tremendously enhanced the performances. Indeed, the BSO seemed of one mind and were clearly playing together with complete involvement. Bravo!!

    My favorite of all the symphonies performed Thursday night was #1. It was a flawless, extraordinarily beautiful, and unusually impactful performance of a symphony that is often played without distinction. This is not damning the rest of the evening by faint praise – it’s just that #1 was that exceptional. I’ve never heard it played so well, with such involvement, and as if every note mattered. And I agree with Vance Koven’s conclusion – it’s the best performance of this symphony I’ve heard live or in recording. Incredible!

    #2 was perfectly fine if not at the extraordinary level of #1. The BSO gave it a very creditable performance and it worked, even if it didn’t have me on the “edge of my seat” the way #1 did.

    The Eroica, #3, was a respectable performance that was well-played, if not exceptionally interpreted. I enjoyed the performance even if it fell short of the nearly-unreachable standards of recorded performances from the likes of Otto Klemperer in particular and to a lesser extent Herbert von Karajan, who for me are the lodestars in this symphony. The first movement was well done across the board. But the Funeral March to my ears didn’t deliver the “oomph” or emotional catharsis that this movement is capable of. Part of the reason is that Nelsons overly micro-managed the orchestra, picking the reading apart to the point it didn’t sustain momentum. And the other reason is that to my ears, Nelsons’ Achilles heel as a conductor is that he’s not at his best in delivering the long line that can run through both a movement and an entire work – and the 2nd movement specifically and this symphony more broadly need it to be maximally effective. Karajan once said “it takes a lifetime to achieve this” (and Herbert Blomstedt said something similar in a recent interview). And certainly, the recordings of this symphony that I cherish (from Klemperer and Karajan) are from musicians in their 70s who bring accumulated experience and a lifetime of wisdom that a conductor in his mid-40s just doesn’t have. (And hearing in recent years a 1944 recording of Beethoven’s 3rd from Karajan—-his first recording of this symphony—-unexpectedly drove the point home that he wasn’t born with this capacity and clearly didn’t have it in his mid-30s; it developed over time through hard work and sustained effort.) The last movement in Nelsons’ reading came across as too episodic and didn’t successfully pull the symphony’s threads together into a summarizing overwhelming triumph – which Otto Klemperer did better than anyone else ever has to my ears (in Klemperer’s unreachable 1959 stereo recording with the Philharmonia Orchestra).

    But at the end of the day, a lot of my comments represent details that shouldn’t obscure the bigger picture: This was a superb concert that was successful across the board, and made a strong impression. Congratulations to the BSO and Andris Nelsons for such a strong start to this Beethoven cycle!

    Comment by Mogulmeister — January 11, 2025 at 3:59 pm

  12. At the Friday concert, Symphony 2 was a revelation. I agree with you that Nelsons emphasized the continuity with the finale of the 1st, but he imbued the “sturm und Drang” of the second’s 1st movement with very palpable angst, suggesting that the uplifting second theme could be identified with Beethoven’s own call to put suicidal despair aside and defy tragedy by giving his music to the world. The ensuing larghetto movement was positively hymnal. You write “The larghetto second movement (sounded more adagietto to us, but let that pass) brought thoughts of whether this was the spring from which all Schubert sprang, tender with dark dapples.” Yes! Nelsons slowed it down and gave it an aura of grace/gratitude. So basically Nelsons was bold enough to move away from the “cheery” interpretation and imbue the Second symphony with a lot of the composer’s personal depth.

    Comment by Ashley — January 11, 2025 at 3:25 pm

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