In Arnold Schoenberg's great unfinished opera, "Moses und Aron," God's forceful yet ineloquent prophet Moses faces his people and declares, "All-powerful One, the omnipresent One/ Invisible, inconceivable/ Demands no offerings from you./ He wants not a part/ He demands the whole."
Moses here is talking of God, but on Thursday night with the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Symphony Hall, he may as well have been talking of the audience's reaction to Schoenberg's composition. Like the god of Moses, "Moses und Aron" demands much from its listeners, not all of whom choose to accept the gospel of Schoenberg's challenging 12-tone work.
"Moses und Aron" is a high point in the BSO's ongoing program concept this season, the Beethoven/Schoenberg project. Under music director James Levine, the symphony culminates its exploration of the works of two of music's greatest innovators, Ludwig van Beethoven and Arnold Schoenberg. While Levine's intention is to illustrate parallels between the two composers by casting some of their greatest works side-by-side, it seems that Boston's infamously stodgy symphony-going public may gush over the Beethoven and skip the Schoenberg.
The Beethoven concerts of the BSO's season will surely enjoy brisk ticket sales, with performances including singing stars Deborah Voigt and Karita Mattila and renderings of much-loved classics including the Third and Eighth Symphonies.
For the Beethoven performances (and other crowd-pleasing evenings to include Mozart, Brahms, Haydn and so on), Conductor James Levine can rest assured that those pivotal orchestra section season subscribers will last the entire evening. Thursday night, however, Levine and his grand ensemble of musicians could not achieve the same level of loyalty.
While the evening started with a mostly full house and a sense of anticipation, those crucial subscribers' seats saw some serious attrition at intermission. Week after week, these Bostonians support the BSO - except, apparently, when the symphony pulls out the Schoenberg.
A common reaction to the mention of the name "Arnold Schoenberg" is raised eyebrows, a vague smile or a polite cough. Schoenberg is a name often associated with atonality or, more generically, a compositional style that does not rely upon traditional scale patterns and chord sequences.
Schoenberg's world of music has its own style of expression, its own meaning of truth in music, and its own sense of spirit. Schoenberg was famous for his ambivalence towards the public, and unlike some of his more beloved predecessors - Beethoven included - Schoenberg did not write to please his audiences.
"Moses und Aron" is by no means a surefire crowd-pleaser, but it is a seriously gripping work. After a significant effort and a stunning conclusion, Levine and his cohort managed to bring the Symphony Hall crowd to their feet.
Sir John Tomlinson's uproarious rendering of Moses, the remarkably studied performance of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus, and Levine's ever-steady baton played a major role in the production of the standing ovation the symphony received Thursday night. While not all the performers crammed onto Symphony Hall stage seemed convinced of the musicality of the notes on the page, soloists and singers did an especially notable job. The most successful musicians grew red with effort, such as Sir Tomlinson, or leaned deep into their music stands, their bodies contracted as if in a physical encounter with the notes Schoenberg penned back in 1928.
It is in this striking aspect of the BSO's performance of "Moses und Aron" that illustrates why those audience members who chose to leave at intermission missed out on a unique experience. As we know from the Old Testament story, Aaron's people do lose faith in Moses and, yes, they partake in what Schoenberg's opera calls an "Orgy of Drunkenness and Dancing." (That excitement comes in Act II.)
Moses then returns to the idol-worshipers, spitting with anger, and he destroys the image of the Golden Calf. What follows is an introspective section in which Moses questions his faith. The opera ends with Moses' gut-wrenching cry to God: "Thus, I am defeated: All that I previously thought was madness which can and should not be given voice, O word, you word that I lack!"
Thursday night, the BSO and its audience, struggled with the words of Arnold Schoenberg. Yet with this extraordinary composer, who challenges the way we hear music and the way we understand our emotions, perhaps the point is precisely that struggle.
"Moses und Aron" is the story of an effort to communicate truth, an effort Schoenberg felt profoundly during his life. Whatever the reaction of some of the BSO's subscription holders on Thursday night, James Levine and the Boston Symphony Orchestra can be proud of their pains to communicate musical truths in this remarkable season that pairs Beethoven with Schoenberg.
