Ludwig van Beethoven graces Symphony Hall in myriad ways this season. His golden-etched name looks out into the audience from the decorative plane above the stage as always, but now his works will echo brightly and passionately throughout the Hall, too. This month conductor and music director James Levine leads the Boston Symphony Orchestra in an all-Beethoven program as part of the BSO's combined Beethoven-Schoenberg programming initiative.
Needless to say, Beethoven is one of the most famous geniuses in Western civilization - not only for the sheer brillance of his music, but because most of his greatest works were created while he was deaf. In his youth, "he was less of a prodigy than Mozart or Mendelssohn," writes pianist and author Edmund Morris in the show's program, but he engulfed audiences through his "universality, his ability to embrace the whole range of human emotion, from dread of death to love of life ... reconciling all doubts and conflicts in a catharsis of sound."
It's this catharsis that Levine sought to bring out; the program carefully spans Beethoven's creative life cycle and the development of his genius. He's picked an earlier symphony, a transitional concerto and the Seventh Symphony - a gatekeeper to the late-Beethoven period.
Symphony No. 2 in D, Opus 36 is a spry introduction to the program, and the most youthful one. The first movement, Adagio molto - Allegro con brio, starts off with lush motion, punctuated by agile togetherness in rhythm and tone. This passionate playfulness increases in Larghetto, the second movement, rich with the contrasts in dialogue.
The famed string section shows off here, sounding verdant and dynamic as it leads the composition. Scherzo: Allegro is distinctive in its blazing liveliness. Finally, Allegro molto once again shows off velvety legato and the effervescent quality of all of BSO's allegros. The movement does draw away from the standard "classicism" in its vivacious rhythmic charge and satisfying ending.
Concerto in C for piano, violin, and cello, Opus 56 features a unique mother-and-son performance. Violinist Miriam Fried, her son pianist Jonathan Biff and cellist Ralph Kirshbaum take it away in a driving, fast-fingered yet thoughtful concerto.
The opening notes of the first movement, Allegro, are controlled; the line quickly swells, however, to a diving and shining introduction with a lovely cello/violin duet. Biff's entrance on piano booms, and the strings complement the drama efficiently by dueling in the background.
The next section, Largo, features Kirshbaum's lush solo lines with beautifully executed creamy vibrato. The trio's feisty tones add to Rondo alla Polacca as well. After the subdued beginning, violin and cello fluently saw away, aided by the majestic touch of piano. The contour morphs in and out of the original theme and back into the playful rondo, but with a hint of a darker undercurrent.
Pianist Jonathan Biff is as exciting to watch as he is to listen to. He's a visual player, performing as if he clearly experiences the progression of the music's emotion within. There's not a static moment about him, and his hands are hardly ever still. At the ripe old age of 25, he has already performed with a many top-notch orchestras and ensembles in North America and abroad (some of his highlights include the New York Philharmonic, BBC Symphony, the Met and Tanglewood). Likewise, his mother Miriam Fried is an agile violinist, hitting sparkling high notes and lighting-fast interchanges; the trio of Fried, Biff and Kirshbaum has excellent chemistry and truly propels the piece as the BSO richly supports their sound.
Symphony No. 7 in A, Opus 92 marks the beginning of the widely-revered later period in Beethoven's musical lifespan - the period that brought us the grandiose masterpieces that shaped the future of Western musical tradition. The symphony starts with Poco Sostenuto - Vivace - a soaring, lively romp with a shimmering wind section and a golden ending.
Most beautiful, however, is the second movement, Allegretto. The famously mysterious melody feels like a softly dark, multi-layered moving current of a silky story. Its most notable quality is the riddle-like interplay of instrumental lines, much like a conversation between the strings and winds and basses about something lovely, dark and far away.
A contrasting Presto follows; it is a bright prance through timidity and grandeur in turn. The symphony ends with Allegro con brio, a sunny, highly rhythmic and ambitious leap, showcasing the orchestra's velocity and emotional versatility.
It is true that Beethoven was a radical, erratic genius, and these qualities project through his works in fiery, meaningful sparks. His radicalism draws the deepest contrasts and truest catharses; in Beethoven, we find lyricism and punctuation, despair and hubris, darkness and elation.
We hear full ranges of the perfection of subtlety within extravagant passages, allowing an uncannily timeless understanding of the complexities of human nature. The Boston Symphony Orchestra's performance masterfully captures this understanding; Levine's conducting is intricately perceptive and insightful.
