Germany Ebracher Musiksommer – Bruckner, Symphony No.7: Philharmonie Festiva / Gerd Schaller (conductor). Ebrach Abbey, 26.7.2026. (KW)
Every symphony poses its own special questions, and Bruckner symphonies perhaps more than most. With the Seventh there is, of course, the insoluble puzzle as to whether to play the disputed cymbal clash and triangle at the climax of the Adagio, but there are a legion of other puzzles to solve. How moderate should the first movement Allegro moderato be, and how should the tempo of the Adagio differentiate itself from the first movement, and how should the tempo of the finale enable a satisfying symphonic structure? How should that enormous climax that closes the first movement second theme exposition relate to the third theme that then enters pp without transition, and how should performers approach the massive and sudden contrasts in dynamic to be found in the symphony? Should special effort be made to mark the moment the recapitulation begins amongst a series of repetitions of the opening arpeggio-like gesture? How should the Adagio lyrical second theme take its place against the sombre theme of Wagner tubas that opens the movement? What sort of a theme is the Scherzo ‘cock-crow’ trumpet call – is it ‘grotesquerie’, as Markus Poschner suggests in his recent book, is it trivial, or banal, simply joyful, or maybe even a Wagnerian heroic motive, and how should the weighty brass be handled in this symphony? Is the finale to be played light, bright and playful, or does it need to be something weightier to effectively respond to the power of the first movement? The thoughtful conductor must take a view on all these, and many other, aspects of performance – and Maestro Gerd Schaller is, above all, a thoughtful conductor.
The performance of the Seventh Symphony that he directed was remarkable for many things, but particularly impressive was the attention given to observing the long term arch of the paragraphs and of the symphony as a whole, whilst combining this with extraordinary attention to detail of dynamics and of phrasing. The music doesn’t respond well to just raising the baton, sweeping through and hoping it will all work out: the ability to deal with the minutiae while keeping the larger perspective intact is, I believe, an essential requirement for convincing Bruckner performance. For example, in the climax that closes the second theme of the first movement, Schaller and the orchestra paced the build-up immaculately, the rhythm solid, the crescendo perfectly judged to maintain the long line, quite fearless and with no attempt to moderate the enormity of the event. At its sudden cessation, Schaller made the tiniest of pauses to allow for the reverberation in the vast Ebrach Abbey to moderate before the entry of the rhythmically active pp third theme. And here the detail of dynamic and expressive rhythmic attack were fascinatingly observed, the pp and p and f and ff passages very clearly differentiated, and the music thereby displaying that the conductor thought this passage to be as significant a part of the expressive burden of this movement as any other. When you hear it performed like this it gives you absolute confidence that Bruckner knew exactly what he was doing – no need at all to try and mould that crescendo, by means ritenuto and diminuendo, into a smoothed-out transitional passage as many faint-hearted conductors do.
What made the brass so impressive in these and other fortissimo climaxes was that they had been encouraged to hold the full measure of their notes, no tendency to fade away after the initial sounding: the magnificence of Bruckner’s conception was never short-changed. This was also to be heard in the Scherzo where the trumpet call was strong, clear and full of significance. This might indeed be a movement full of simple, energetic joy, freeing us from the deep tragedy of the Adagio, but it never sounded glib or lacking in serious intent. The crescendos were once again impressively constructed to reach their peaks precisely where those peaks should be. In the climax of the Adagio that precedes the Scherzo, the steadily increasing power of the build-up on its trajectory to the glorious apex, and the strength and brilliance of the winds and the brass, ensured that the music shone through so keenly, so brightly that the absence of cymbal and triangle was in no way conspicuous – they just weren’t necessary.
Schaller’s overall tempi were not particularly unusual, though the Finale may have been slower than many performances. The symphony opened quite broadly, more moderato than allegro, it was wonderful to hear the theme so beautifully played by the cellos with a slight emphasis towards the top of the rising arpeggio that gave a sense of direction and purposefulness that remained present throughout the performance. The Adagio’s Wagner tuba theme was suitably sombre, not especially slow, but for the second theme Schaller made a big contrast in tempo, the lyrical song becoming quite passionate and agitated. The Scherzo opened seeming rather quiet and moderate, but this allowed for the spirited trumpet call and powerful crescendos to have their full effect. He waited before starting the Finale to command full attention thereby ensuring that, though shorter than other Bruckner symphonic finales, this was not some lightweight, bustling movement that would break free from the gravity of the previous movements. He had the orchestra give the Finale theme just as much attention to articulation and dynamic as he had required throughout the performance, and there was never any doubt that this movement had more than enough meat in it to balance the movements that had preceded it, without the imposition of ‘those pesky ritardandos’ (Carragan) that can undermine the progress of the exposition. The theme as played immediately recalled the opening of the symphony, so ensuring that we had returned to our beginning and had completed a wondrous journey.
What we didn’t get in this performance was any of the disfiguring exaggerations of random moments that some interpreters indulge, nor any of the feverish ecstatic accelerandos that we might hear in performances conducted by Furtwängler or Jochum, nor indeed anything of the very slow ‘mystical’ approach of Celibidache or Ballot, and neither did we hear anything of the speedy lightweight run-through of such as Norrington. What we did get was a performance of deep feeling, of strength, of proportion and shining brilliance, such a performance as one feels it to be a privilege to have attended – and fortunately, it was recorded for imminent release.
Ken Ward