For the new year, I decided that Music Appreciation sessions needed to take a step back from my usual weekly routine of introducing a new piece of music to the group and then providing some interesting tidbits on the background of the piece, the recording, etc. It seemed like a good time to delve into the subject of Critical and Analytical Listening. Now, from what I could find around the internet, these are defined as follows (taken from blog.shure.com):

“Critical listening primarily comes from the engineer’s point of view.  You’re listening to the physical details of the music – frequency response, dynamic range, tone, imaging, and how instruments are blended together.”

“Analytical listening is all about feeling and meaning.   It’s important to understand that the emotional intention of a musical performance is reflected in the sound.”

In my opinion, the practical idea of “Music Appreciation” is somewhere in between those two definitions. I’m sure that a music educator would have picked more suitable material for demonstration purposes, but in my case, I chose one of my favorite symphonies written by Peter Illytch Tchaikovsky, his Fifth Symphony, written and premiered in 1888. Now, why would I pick this piece for this exercise? Well, to me it serves the purpose of demonstrating that not one version of this is alike, and there are some that are so similar that it takes a great deal of attention on the part of the listener to determine what exactly IS different. Due to the general popularity of Tchaikovsky’s 4th, 5th and 6th symphonies, there are plenty of recorded examples of them available, and the 5th in particular seems to be widely interpreted from something that is quick and agile to something that is heavy, dark and would be suitable for a very somber occasion, but it takes a little research and some careful attention to each sample performance to decide for oneself what Tchaikovsky was trying to convey with this music. I’m probably making too much of this, but suffice it to say, I find each version that I myself own (I have three) to be delightful in their own ways. Thus, the listener is required to practice Critical and Analytical Listening to come to some sort of conclusion about what is being played, and more practically, which recording(s) do I add to my collection? First though, a little history of the music itself…

In the winter and spring of 1888, Tchaikovsky was on tour with several of his works, and in particular in January of that year, the composer found himself in Hamburg, Germany. Tchaikovsky conducted his Serenade for String Orchestra, the Piano Concerto No. 1 (featuring soloist Vasily Sapelnikov), and the Theme and Variations from the Suite No. 3 during concerts given on the 8th and 20th. While in Hamburg, Tchaikovsky was introduced to a pillar of the musical community in Hamburg, Herr Avé-Lallemant. Tchaikovsky wrote the following in his diary:

“First of all I should mention the chief director of the Philharmonic Society, the aged Herr Avé-Lallemant. This most venerable old man of over eighty paid me great attention and treated me with paternal affection. In spite of his age and frailness, as well as the long distance from his house, he attended my two rehearsals, the concert, and even Dr Bernuth‘s reception [after the concert]. In his extraordinary kindness he went so far as to request some photographs of me, which were to be taken by the best photographer in Hamburg. He even called on me to ask about this and arranged an appointment when I could pose for the photographer, as well as deciding on my behalf what size and format the photographs should be produced in. When I then visited this kindly old gentleman, who passionately loves music and who, as should be obvious to the reader, is quite free from that aversion which many old people have against everything that has been written in recent times, I had a very lengthy and interesting conversation with him.

Herr Avé-Lallemant openly confessed that there was a lot in those works of mine which had been performed in Hamburg that wasn’t to his liking; that he could not stand my noisy instrumentation; that he hated some of the orchestral effects which I resorted to (especially with regard to the percussion), but that all the same he saw in me the makings of a good, truly German composer. Almost with tears in his eyes he exhorted me to leave Russia and to settle permanently in Germany, where the classical traditions and the general atmosphere of a higher culture would not fail to correct me and rid me of those deficiencies which he felt were easily accountable by the fact that I was born and grew up in a country which was still so unenlightened and backward when compared to Germany as regards progress.

Evidently, Herr Avé-Lallemant harbours a deep prejudice against Russia, and I tried as far as I could to mitigate his hostile feelings towards our country, which, incidentally, this venerable Russophobe did not actually express openly, but merely allowed to shine through in his words. We parted as great friends.”

It was after this meeting that Tchaikovsky decided he would dedicate his next major work to Ave-Lallemant. Over the summer of 1888, Tchaikovsky composed his fifth symphony, and it was premiered in Tchaikovsky’s home town of St. Petersburg at the Marinsky Theater on November 17th of the same year. Tchaikovsky would travel to Hamburg to conduct the symphony in March of the following year. Unfortunately, Ave-Lallemant never had the opportunity to hear the work which was dedicated to him due to failing health.

The Fifth Symphony, like the Fourth before it and the Sixth that followed, the work examines the influence of Fate, Hope and Faith in our lives, and the symphony’s first movement opens with the “Fate Theme”. In this work, unlike the other two symphonies, the main theme is heard in some form in all four movements. In the second movement, it opens with echoes of the Fate Theme in a very dark setting, and that gives way to the french horn solo in a theme that has become known as the “Hope Theme”. The third movement continues the upward trajectory towards the fourth movement which breaks out into a triumphant sounding march that wraps up the symphony. The symphony starts off in the key of E-Minor and ends in E-Major. The recordings that I chose for this Music Appreciation session were as follows:

Kurt Masur conducting the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig (used as a benchmark for the evening) (recorded in 1991)

Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic (recorded in 1990)

George Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra (recorded in 1960 and remastered/re-released in 1988)

Each of the great conductors featured, present their own takes on the material, as you might imagine, but it’s Bernstein that seems to take the somber nature of the music the most to heart. His tempo throughout the symphony is generally slower than the others that I presented, and in particular, the “Fate Theme” feels much darker with the prominent bass violins making themselves quite known and bringing quite a bit of power and weight to the performance, and adding to that darkness is the relatively slow tempo. The recording of the symphony was taken from a live performance, and any research into Bernstein’s tenure with the New York Philharmonic will show you that in live performances, he had a tendency to stretch the music a bit for dramatic effect. I like the result in this case, but it’s not my favorite. The best part of the recording to me is the final minutes of the fourth movement where Bernstein takes the idea of a triumphant march and runs with it in a somewhat reverent speed that carries through to the very end. The last few blasts of the orchestra that mark the ending are almost staccato in nature, and personally, I prefer this interpretation of the ending in particular.

Then we looked at Masur and Szell. In the case of George Szell, he is, as usual, striving for perfection. The Cleveland Orchestra delivers a well-balanced performance that is, to me anyway, perfect. The music is played at a much faster tempo when compared to Bernstein’s interpretation, but Szell doesn’t just run rough-shod over the score either. The areas that are somber feel right, and the portions where a more hopeful feel is required are spot on as well. To this day, The Cleveland Orchestra is great at delivering the “Goldilocks” interpretation, that is to say, it’s “Just Right”. As a resident of Northwest PA, the Cleveland Orchestra is basically in my back yard, and I make as many of their performances as I can every year. To continue… Szell keeps things moving along quickly right up until the climax of the fourth movement. I can imagine that in live performances of this work, he must have gotten someone in the audience to think that the piece was over with the relatively long pause that he chose to have before launching the orchestra into the march that concludes the work. In a recent performance of the work at their summer home, The Blossom Music Center, the guest conductor for the evening –Robert Trevino– almost got some people to start applauding with his similarly timed pause. It was yet another great demonstration of The Cleveland Orchestra’s immense talent as a body of musicians.

The recording by Kurt Masur is very similar in texture and tempo to that of Szell. We used it as the benchmark recording since it was the newest and clearest recording of the bunch, and also because it was one of the first recordings of the work that I was exposed to as a youngster. In my mind, before hearing Szell’s interpretation anyway, it was and to a certain extent still is, the go-to version for me when I want to listen to this Symphony. Everything about the recording and performance is excellent. In particular, the tempo and texture ending is somewhere between Szell and Bernstein, and it never gets old. I don’t personally own many of Kurt Masur’s recordings with any orchestra, but I’m almost never disappointed with his work.

Without further ado, here are YouTube links to the recordings that I mentioned: