Goldener Saal, Musikverein, Vienna
Beethoven – Symphony no.2 in
D major, op.36
Mahler – Symphony no.4
Kate Royal (soprano)
Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra
Yannick Nézet-Séguin (conductor)
12.12.12: some of us thought
of it as International Dodecaphonic Day. Still, so far as I could ascertain,
and despite my privileged position of working for a fortnight at the Arnold
Schönberg Center, I could not discover any music by Schoenberg – or, for that
matter, by either other member of the Viennese Holy Trinity – being performed
in Vienna. Mahler, then, was as close as one might come, though alas he was not
served especially well in this performance of his Fourth Symphony.
First, however, and rather to
my surprise, came rather a good performance of Beethoven’s Second Symphony.
Having visited Heiligenstadt on Saturday evening, it seemed quite fitting to
hear a work written at the time of Beethoven’s celebrated Testament, even if
the symphony bears little obvious sign of the torment the composer voiced in
that heart-rending cry. In this performance, from the Rotterdam Philharmonic
Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin, both the introduction and the main body of
the first movement were taken at a relatively swift pace, yet sounded
proportionate to each other; as Wagner long ago pointed out, such proportions
are far more important than absolute tempi. The transition between both
sections convinced, not least on account of that clear relation between the
two. Strings and woodwind proved nicely responsive to each other. And the music
sounded with a sense of fun: a young man’s Beethoven, but none the worse for
that. Bar an unfortunate horn fluff in the recapitulation, there was little one
could reasonably fault here. The slow movement again flowed convincingly, with
winning echoes of Haydn not only in the string dialogue but also in the darker
hued passages. (Heiligenstadt? Perhaps?) Occasionally the strings would have
benefited from less parsimony with respect to vibrato, but that was not a
problem to be exaggerated. If one is going to push hard, it is probably better
to do so in the scherzo than elsewhere; certainly Nézet-Séguin’s slight
relaxation for the trio made its point. The hall at any rate took off some of
the edge, and line was well maintained. Beethoven in Haydnesque mode was again
a strong characteristic of the finale, articulated with style, the Rotterdam
cellos especially gorgeous. A slightly slower tempo might have heightened the
humour, but there was much to enjoy. This was not profound Beethoven after
Klemperer or Furtwängler – today, Colin Davis or Barenboim – but that may well
come; there was a lovely sheen to the performance and much of the music
understanding was already in place. In the manner of those irritating Amazon
comparisons, ‘If you like Karajan’s Beethoven, you would probably have liked
this.’
After the swift tempi of the
Beethoven, I was somewhat taken aback by the slow pace of the opening bars to
the first movement of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony. It settled down soon enough –
or rather, I thought it had, for the abiding problem of this performance was
Nézet-Séguin’s apparent unwillingness to convey a sense of an underlying pulse.
Tempo fluctuations were extreme, especially in terms of slowing down, at one
point almost grinding to a halt. The moment at which the solo violin entered
came like a shot in the arm. If the performance livened up after that, however,
the damage had been done, and the recapitulation suffered similarly, though to
a lesser extent. One could enjoy the somewhat rambunctious woodwind, but Mahler
does not need to be milked; nor does he take well to it. The second movement
offered a not dissimilar experience. There is of course nothing wrong with
tempo fluctuations – think of Mengelberg! – but one still needs a sense of
basic pulse. The solo violin skirted dangerous close at times to the merely
unpleasant; edge is good, but by definition, it should not be de trop, and scordatura should not be taken as an excuse for questionable
intonation. Here and elsewhere, I missed a more characterful, deeply resonant
string section.
The resultant lack of
harmonic grounding was, however, successfully combated in the slow movement: much
superior in every respect. (Odd, that, given that it is arguably the most
difficult of the four movements to bring off.) There was a sense of scale, of
proportion, here; line, whilst not always perfectly maintained, was much more
in evidence. The performance showed that variation of tempo is perfectly possible,
indeed often highly desirable, so long as a basic pulse has been established.
Climaxes can then tell as they should – and they did. The orchestra and
Nézet-Séguin were in lively form for the finale: sometimes too much so, the
woodwind in particular proving shrill at times, but at least there was
character to their performance. That was more than one could say for the
lacklustre Kate Royal – even if one had been able to discern more than one word
in five of what she sang. This was neither a child’s sense of heaven, nor
something more knowing and sophisticated; it was simply inadequate. (Royal’s
poor diction has been a characteristic of every performance of hers I have
heard; whatever her strengths may be, they certainly do not lie in Lieder-singing.) However, there was a
fine sense of orchestral culmination or arrival at the close, Mahler’s
progressive tonality vindicated with love.
