Artistic Director Thomas Crawford

 

The American Classical Orchestra: The Ninth Symphony (Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125)

 

                                          by Deirdre Donovan

 

“If all the music that has ever been written were lost in the expected world-wide conflagration, we must pledge ourselves to rescue this symphony, even at the peril of our lives.”  These were the words that the Russian revolutionary Mikhail Bachunin said to Richard Wagner after listening to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony for the first time.  No doubt his sentiments can still resonate today to anybody who has ever encountered the groundbreaking work. 

 

Beethoven buffs recently had an opportunity to savor the symphony again as the American Classical Orchestra (ACO) took center stage at David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center on April 11th.  Under the sensitive baton of ACO’s Artistic Director Thomas Crawford, the iconic work was performed on period instruments, allowing listeners a chance to hear it played as it might have sounded at its debut in Vienna on May 7^th, 1824.

                        Photos by William Neumann

 

Before launching into the famous soundscape, Crawford gave the audience a mini-lecture on the symphony.  He parsed the piece, pointing out why the work bowled over its first audience. Rather than inundating us with historical trivia, however, Crawford invited us to listen to the orchestra perform segments of the symphony that illustrated why it thrilled—and puzzled--the musical establishment in the early 19^th-century. 

 

According to Crawford, the first wow moment comes at the opener.  We then listened to the soft glimmer of sounds from the strings and winds that suddenly crescendo with a burst from the trumpets and timpani. Crawford noted that the first audience applauded at this hat trick—and told us that we must applaud too when we hear this lightning-fast crescendo in the opening bars.  Crawford singled out other earmarks of the Ninth, where the strings, the winds, and the percussion strut their musical stuff and can send goose-bumps down your spine.  To wrap up his introduction, Crawford commented on the Finale’s “Ode to Joy” theme and had the chorus give us a taste of Friedrich Schiller’s poem that is infused with that “beautiful spark of divinity.”

 

Crawford then launched into the symphony in earnest, with the entire audience cocking their collective ear to catch the soft-to-ultra-loud transition in the First Movement.  Yes, we put our hands together at the right moment—and Crawford turned and beamed a smile at us.  Indeed, this was no passive experience of listening to the juggernaut.  This was a total immersion into the masterpiece, with Crawford serving, not only as a conductor, but a mediator between the orchestra and audience.

 

If the First Movement hit one like an ominous thunderclap, the Second Movement took on an entirely different tack.  Technically referred to as a “scherzo,” this part is lively and exudes confidence.  Typically, Beethoven saved his “scherzos” for the Third Movements of his symphonies.  But the Ninth was no follower of this pattern.  With twenty-twenty hindsight, we know that Beethoven was pushing the envelope, changing the rules and rechanneling musical history.  One contemporary musical historian dubbed this movement a cat-and-mouse game between the strings and winds. Crawford interpreted it with a nod to the dance rhythms of the Renaissance.  In a program note, Crawford shared that he used Beethoven’s slow metronome choice of 116 BPM (means “beats per minute”) by appropriating it to the vivace and later presto in the musical bars.  In any event, it worked.

 

Crawford paused ever-so-slightly before diving into the Third Movement, which is lyricism writ large.  Crawford remained faithful to the original markings and simply let it meander into this, and that, chord progression.  The bassoons and clarinets, buoyed by the strings, greeted us at the start, and an atmosphere of repose was gradually established.  Toscanini once wrote of this movement: “One becomes all soul.  One ought to conduct it on one’s knees.”  While Crawford stood at his full height for the duration of this section, he projected a reverential air throughout. 

 

The famous Finale has 30 tempo changes, and Crawford made each one count. Crawford intentionally steered clear of a too slow tempo but adhered to the composer’s own metronome markings.  The results were satisfying as the finale never sunk into mawkish sentimentality.  Of course, the highlight of the finale was listening to Friedrich Schiller’s “Ode to Joy,” with the able talents of the soprano Sherezade Panthaki, the mezzo-soprano Helen Karloski, tenor Kang Wang, and bass-baritone Michael Samuel plus the chorus.  Although we take it for granted now that Beethoven wrote “solo and choral voices” for his last symphony, it was quite the buzz of Old Vienna when Schiller’s poem was first intoned at the premiere. 

 

Okay, Beethoven’s Ninth has been performed on more sophisticated hi-tech instruments that give it a slicker sound.  But this period presentation was a rare treat.  What Crawford and the ACO Orchestra offered the audience was an authenticity that harked back to that spring day in Vienna in 1824 when the master first unveiled his creation.

 

 

One performance only, April 11^th

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, 10 Lincoln Center Plaza.

For more information, visit www.aconyc.org (ACO’s next program is The Italian Masters on May 11^th  at Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center)

Running Time: 70 minutes with no intermission