Germany Mozart, Bruckner: Leif Ove Andsnes (soloist), Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra / Herbert Blomstedt (conductor). Livestreamed from the Berlin Philharmonie on 21.12.2024 and available on the Digital Concert Hall. (GT)
Mozart – Piano Concerto No.20 in D minor, K.466
Bruckner – Symphony No.9 in D minor, WAB 109
It was fitting that this final concert devoted to the anniversary of Anton Bruckner’s birth should reprise the collaboration between Herbert Blomstedt and Leif Ove Andsnes. It was as a student that the Norwegian pianist first played Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.20 many years ago. It was not coincidental that the last time they played together here in Berlin in 2020, the programme included the Mozart Piano Concerto No.22 and Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony, both in D-flat major, so hardly strange that the two works on this evening were both in D minor.
The opening Allegro began tenderly with great warmth in the violins against shadowy triplets in the lower strings; the passage was enhanced by vivid harmonies from the oboe and the flute before the piano entered in an attempt to mitigate the hint of the threatening timpani thumps. Owing to the exquisite woodwind playing, the Norwegian’s cadenza was beautiful in its fluency and tone, and the orchestral playing became warmer before the return of the darkly auspicious idea. The Romanze brought a more peaceful mood, bringing lightness and intimacy in the solo passage from the keyboard, and there were some exquisite harmonies before the more daring idea on the strings.
The Rondo, Allegro assai swayed between the major and minor tonality with a pair of brightly upbeat themes distinguished by a beautifully embroidered keyboard passage from Andsnes. He gestured to the bassoon to pick up the idea leading to the timpani thump, and the whole ensemble drove quickly to a close on the buoyant major key. Andsnes and Blomstedt know each other intently, so erudite and natural was this performance, and after the close, Andsnes played the Chopin Prelude in A-flat major, Op.28 No.17.
Few other conductors today have such a profound understanding of Bruckner than Blomstedt who says that ‘in some civilised countries, Bruckner is a closed book, even for music lovers.’ Dedicated to ‘the good Lord’, Bruckner began the Ninth Symphony immediately following completion of the Eighth, and spent nine years on it without ever completing it, only leaving behind sketches for the fourth movement.
In his pre-concert interview, Blomstedt said how the Ninth Symphony ‘is full of surprises. It’s very original. The work starts with a rustling on a tremolando chord. He lingers for a long time in this key of D minor, an unusually long time for a Bruckner symphony, and as soon as it stops, it moves as far away as possible: he modulates to B major, which is really very remote from D minor. So there’s an enormous contrast even within the first minute. This enormous modulation is already very modern. Bruckner wasn’t old-fashioned but was very forward-looking.’
Blomstedt said the third movement ‘starts as if by Schoenberg, there is something extreme about it, while it ends on the E major chord which signifies peace, it is extremely warm, and there is dissonance.’ Continuing, the conductor said how ‘Anyone wanting to explore this modern streak of his needs to look no further than the third movement, an Adagio – these leaps of a ninth. From the very first bar, there’s something extreme about it. The third movement is a particularly beautiful Adagio with some really beautiful melodies. It is a contrast to the other movements including the Scherzo. But this is no normal beauty, it sounds extremely modern. There are dissonances in this movement that surpass all other dissonances. This happens after twenty minutes and is completely logical. The melodies clash with each other and develop in a way that is a very different kind of dissonance from what a modern composer might write with notes that don’t belong to this key. Far from it! It makes perfectly logical sense when this “strident” dissonance appears. This is prepared for by the cellos and double basses. The theme enters in the basses and ends on this fermata where everything screams in pain. This dissonance is followed by a long rest. This leads to a second theme that speaks of consolation, very expressive and wonderfully stated on the oboe. It ends peacefully in E major. It takes its leave; it sounds very beautiful. After this, Bruckner quotes from one of his early Masses: “Miserere, have mercy, O Lord”. Then come quotations from the Seventh Symphony, and dissonances also can be beautiful. The Trio is very fast and very quiet.’
The opening movement (Feierlich, misterioso) started darkly on the strings, brass and timpani, with a tentative idea emerging from the violins assisted by an upbeat theme in the oboe and the woodwind which rose to a crescendo. A theme of indomitable strength was heard on the brass and timpani against the warmly verdant strings and rising to another crescendo with a graceful theme on the strings. The intensity of the performance was evident by Blomstedt conducting with his occasional frowns and often raising just a finger to indicate his intentions while gently stroking his hands, gaining complete attention from his musicians. The sudden raising of Blomstedt’s arms got an immediate response and was highlighted by his smiling face, and his eye contact was constant. There was a thrilling coda to the opening movement.
The second movement, Scherzo. Bewegt, lebhaft – Trio. Schnell, opened with brilliant, lively playing and delightful solos from the flute, oboe and horn, evincing a clear disparity between the two moods. Blomstedt took great delight in just his hand movements, directing the rather devilish temperament, switching over to a theme that seemed more gentle than unearthly, yet the brutal thuds on the timpani quickly changed the mood with great drama and exciting playing which brought the Scherzo to a close.
A smile from Blomstedt to the violins opened the final movement (Adagio. Langsam, Feierlich) and the uplifting mood was upset by the uninviting brass harmonies and the Wagner tubas before the woodwind introduced a lightness in tone. This passage led to a roll from the timpani, and the brass announced a heavenly theme enhanced by a captivating horn solo. There came a feeling of great moment, as the magnificent horns and Wagner tubas brought sobriety and a sense of mourning against the softly dulcet violins murmuring in a funereal mood. After a pause, a great, reflective theme opened on the strings accompanied on the horns and transitioned to a magisterial theme from the violins, with plucking on the double basses and cellos. There was an overwhelming intimacy in the playing, especially in quiet passages.
Blomstedt’s direction invoked a grandeur in the brass chorale and an exquisite flute solo; the transitions between moods of heavenly beauty and mighty overwhelming grandeur were underlined and contrasted by a deep intensity and emotion. In conducting these passages leading to the culmination Blomstedt seemed overwhelmed with passion but was always firmly in control. The Wagner tubas, brass and timpani led to an upsurge of tension, while passages from the oboe and horn brought a further crescendo. The passage on the solo horn transitioned in the strings into, yet another, heavenly passage, supported by the Wagner tubas, leading to a quiet flute solo and more from the horns. Ever so slowly, with closed eyes, Blomstedt dropped his hands downwards before a wave of applause brought this memorable concert to a close.
It seemed as if – from the heavens – the composer was gazing down upon the orchestra in some kind of divine communion. What we heard from the strings was of such beauty that it seemed as if the musicians were sharing in a quite celestial experience; the music sounded so fresh, often one felt as if hearing this music for the first time.
Gregor Tassie