Philharmonie
Mozart:
Symphony no.35 in D major,
KV 385, ‘Haffner’
Schoenberg:
Chamber Symphony no.1 in E
major, op.9Mozart: Symphony no.41 in C major, KV 551, ‘Jupiter’
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
Daniel Barenboim (conductor)
The Berlin State Opera’s Holy
Week Festtage seem by now firmly to have established an invented tradition of
opening with a concert from the Vienna Philharmonic and Daniel Barenboim. This
year we heard three symphonies, one by Mozart and Schoenberg, both Barenboim
specialities, with fine results. One might say the same, of course, for Mozart
and the VPO, and ought to be able to for Schoenberg too; perhaps we should say
that, when the orchestra can be persuaded (after all this time…) to play the
music of one of Vienna’s greatest sons, it can bring something very special to
it.
The Haffner Symphony received an excellent performance indeed. A
pleasingly large (by today’s standards) orchestra, strings 12:10:8:6:5,
presented something that was no mere showpiece, the first movement’s swagger
emerging from the score, above all founded upon its harmony – just as if it were
Beethoven. The unanimity of ensemble was just as impressive as its warmth. This
was pretty much perfect. And so, it was impossible not to note a slight lapse
of ensemble at the beginning of the slow movement. (Yes, I am saying ‘slow
movement’ in order to wind the right people up…) At any rate, recovery was
swift; thereafter, a wealth of variegation proved crucial to such cultivated
playing. The Vienna woodwind might almost have been Karl Böhm’s. Above all, the
music ‘spoke’, as if it were an aria without words. Barenboim’s tempo
modifications were subtle yet telling. The minuet stood on the cusp of one- and
three-to-a-bar (although Barenboim, as, perhaps more surprisingly, in the Jupiter, generally conducted it in one).
Once again, melody, harmony, and rhythm were in near-perfect equipoise. A
lovely, teasing trio, especially in the lead-ins, was over, alas, before we
knew it. Like its predecessors, the finale benefited from a tempo that sounded
just ‘right’. Crucially, it had the character of a finale. The timpanist’s
playing is surely deserving of special mention here; so of course is that of
the Vienna strings. This is far more complex music than many take it for; here
it sounded so, without losing its apparent, beguiling simplicity. A thrilling
narrative had me smile – and hold my breath.
Schoenberg’s First Chamber
Symphony followed. I was immediately struck by the chamber music sound, or Klang: not so much a matter of scale,
which is obvious, but of an ensemble of chamber musicians, somewhat like that
for an outgrown Schubert Octet or
indeed Mozart Divertimento – which is certainly one way in which we might
consider what Schoenberg is doing here. The cultivation of the strings’ playing
was again quite remarkable. There were no balance issues, either. Barenboim
proved especially skilled at eliciting and communicating the Lisztian,
transformative element to Schoenberg’s writing, sounding more Wagnerian as time
went on: not just in melodic terms but, more intriguingly still, with respect
to rhythm and metre too. Schoenberg proved, quite rightly, just as fecund as
Mozart; developing variation has many more fathers than Brahms. Viennese
sweetness underlay the performance, but it never became cloying; indeed,
kinship with Schoenberg’s string quartet writing, apparent throughout, seemed
to help ensure a counterbalance.
After the interval came the Jupiter Symphony. If it did not receive
quite so committed a performance, at least to my ears, the VPO occasionally
sounding somewhat on (high class) autopilot, there was still much to enjoy.
Certainly the contrast and connectedness between the two thematic groups in the
first movement registered clearly and meaningfully. So too did the dynamic
functions of development and recapitulation. The slow movement was played
beautifully, not entirely untroubled, but perhaps earlier on a little more
untroubled than it might have been. When greater, well-nigh Beethovenian
tension was heard, the transformation was noteworthy. I loved the darkness of
some of the Minuet’s Trio, and the way the reprise of the Minuet seemed to take
that in, its chromaticism absorbing lessons learned. The finale again very much
had a finale’s character, although in its own particular way. There was no
doubting the weight of the performance, not that that precluded chiaroscuro,
nor the sense of theatre, almost as if this were the final number to an act of
a fourth Da Ponte opera. The symphonic argument nevertheless remained paramount
– at least until a curious moment. Quite why Barenboim adopted so rhetorical a
ritardando before the coda I am not sure; it did not seem at all in keeping
with what we had heard previously. A little girl sitting on stage took this as
a cue to applaud loudly (if the harmony did not suggest a close, then she was
creditably aware that something had happened!) and all tension was lost.
