I’ve often been told [regarding live orchestral concerts], and told others, that it won’t matter much if for some reason the rest of the concert wasn’t that great so long as the orchestra finishes strong. A good ending outweighs a good (or bad/meh) beginning. To this end, ok… some pun intended, most concert programs end with a large work, usually a well-known or at least a very powerful composition. “Play the symphony last!”, is something that you might read in concert reviews or around the internet, but as anybody who loves concert music knows, sometimes the conventional wisdom regarding what’s important can be wrong (I know! — GASP!). A good beginning to a musical work can be just as or perhaps even more important than the end. Still, if the work or concert program as a whole happens to finish strong as well, then as the old saying goes, “…you have the cart and the horse.”
Our example today is Ludwig van Beethoven’s immortal Symphony No. 5. I often wonder if Beethoven realized, when he wrote this symphony, that the opening four notes of the first movement would become the most well-known and broadly recognized four notes in classical music and music in general. Furthermore, as the result of the dramatic opening, and the overall beauty of the work, the Fifth Symphony would go on to become the most well-known pieces of orchestral music, period. It’s entirely possible that he knew full well what this symphony would become since he is said to have remarked that the opening was like, “Fate knocking on your door!” Well, whether he knew it or not, the Fifth has become one of the cornerstones of the modern concert repertoire. On December 7th, 1842, the Fifth Symphony was a key part of the New York Philharmonic’s very first concert. It was also included on the Voyager Golden Record, which was the record that was included as part of the collection of music and sounds that are heard here on Earth and launched into space with the Voyager space probes. As many people and orchestras around the world celebrate the 250th anniversary of Beethoven’s birth, his works are currently getting even more attention than they might otherwise. To get back to the Fifth though…
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67, was written between 1804-1808. It premiered in Vienna at the Theater an der Wein in December of 1808. In 1813 E. T. A. Hoffman wrote the following of Beethoven and his music in his book “Beethoven’s Instrumental Music”:
“…Beethoven’s music wields the lever of fear, awe, horror, and pain, and it awakens
that eternal longing that is the essence of the romantic. Thus he is a purely romantic
composer, and if he has had less success with vocal music, is this because vocal music
excludes the character of indefinite longing and represents the emotions, which come
from the realm of the infinite, only by the definite affects of words? . . .What instrumental work by Beethoven confirms this all to a higher degree than the
profound Symphony [No. 5] in C Minor, a work that is splendid beyond all measure.
How irresistibly does this wonderful composition transport the listener through ever
growing climaxes into the spiritual realm of the infinite. Nothing could be simpler
than the two-measure main idea of the first Allegro, which, in unison at first, does not
even define the key for the listener. The character of apprehensive, restless longing
contained in this movement is made even plainer by the melodious subsidiary theme.
The breast that is oppressed and alarmed by intimations of things monstrous, destructive,
and threatening wheezes for air with wrenching gasps, but just then a friendly,
luminous figure appears and brings light into the dark night (the lovely theme in
G major [m. 180- ] that earlier had been intimated by the horn in Eb major). How
simple is this theme—let that be said again—that the master places as the basis of the
whole, but how wonderfully does he derive all the subsidiary and transitional passages
from it through rhythmic interrelationships, such that these passages serve little by
little to unfold the character of the Allegro, which its main theme only hints at. All
these passages are short—almost all consist only of two or three measures—and these
are constantly divided among the wind and string instruments. We might think that
from such elements only something fragmented or incomprehensible could arise, but
instead we receive from them a sense of the whole. So too the constant repetition of
passages and single chords, one after the other, which increases the feeling of an unnamable
longing that reaches to the highest degree. . . .
The inner structure of the movements, their working out, instrumentation, the way
they are linked together—everything works toward a single point. But it is especially
the inner interrelation among the main themes which produces that unity that alone
allows the listener to achieve one single mood. Often this interrelationship becomes
clear to the listener if he hears the connection of two movements, or if he discovers
in different movements some common bass figure. But a deeper relationship that goes
beyond such observations speaks often solely from one mind to another, and it is just
this that exists in the two Allegros and the minuet and which splendidly proclaims the
self-possessed genius of this master…”
Source: “Beethoven’s Instrumental-Musik,” in E. T. A. Hoffmanns sämtliche Werke, vol. 1, ed. C. G. von
Maassen (Munich and Leipzig: G. Müller, 1908), translated by Bryan R. Simms.
I don’t think that there’s much more to say. Mr. Hoffman gives an apt description of the Fifth, and Beethoven’s work in general, and as such we can move on to a few nuances of interpretation. The symphony has been played endlessly since its premiere, and over the decades, there have been some remarkable performances/recordings. When I first started to listen to classical music, my parents were members of the BMG Music Club at the time, the CD that we received as part of the membership was the Karajan Gold edition of Beethoven’s 5th and 6th symphonies performed by the Berlin Philharmonic. Once upon a time, I thought that Karajan and the BPO’s interpretation was the best, the pinnacle of the recorded versions of this piece. I have come to realize that my view of orchestral recordings at one time was rather narrow. Think about it like the view through a peephole out into a hotel hallway. While I still like to listen to Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic for comparison to other works that I have acquired, I now believe that it is not the benchmark recording as I once thought (live and learn). Outside of HVK and the BPO, I have three favorites at present. Here they are:
- Manfred Honek and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra
- Carlos Kleiber and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
- Sir John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique
As I have said, I am not a musician, and as such it is difficult for me to describe the subtle nuances of the music. However, I know what I like about each of the recordings that I listed above. The first one, by Manfred Honek and the Pittsburgh Symphony, holds a special place in my heart and mind since I have spent a fair amount of time in the city. In addition, I have been attending as many of the PSO’s concerts as possible over the last few years. I like the acoustics in Heinz Hall a lot, and it’s a great recording space as well. Therefore the most recent example (produced by Reference Recordings on Hybrid SACD) is of the highest quality, so far as the sound of it goes. Honek’s interpretation is very close to the others in my list. One of the things that drew me to it in particular came after I listened to a passage in the fourth movement where I heard the piccolo player above the rest of the orchestra as they reached the climax of the third recapitulation of the movement’s opening motif (I hope I said that correctly…). That little bit completely changed my opinion on the Karajan recording I mentioned earlier (the picolo wasn’t audible – to me anyway), and it inspired me to write this entry. Another thing about the recording is the prevalence of the orchestra’s brass section. I don’t mean to say that they are highlighted at the detriment of the work; they are highlighted as much as I have always heard them in my head. Overall, a great recording, and also on that same disk is Beethoven’s equally fantastic Seventh Symphony (an entry on that one is forthcoming). If you get a chance, check it out!
The second recording, by Carlos Kleiber and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, is a recent discovery for me. Whenever I look to acquire a CD of a particular piece of concert music, I read through many reviews first. Typically, I start with Gramophone Magazine out of the UK, and it was here that I first saw this conductor mentioned ( article HERE ). The review spoke highly of Kleiber’s interpretation, and it was further reinforced by a write-up in The Guardian ( Symphony Guide: Beethoven’s Fifth )
The last recording on my list is by Sir John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique, and it is in a class by itself. While the interpretation of the work isn’t markedly different from the others, what sets it apart from the rest is the orchestra’s intrumentation. They play on period-accurate instruments. If you listen to one of the other recordings that I’ve mentioned, you’ll notice a distinct difference in the sound of the music. It’s well-worth your time, and it warrants good speakers or headphones to get the full effect. (A brief review of the Complete Beethoven Recordings box set HERE)
Video links are below:
To wrap this post up, I would suggest that even the venerable Fifth Symphony is well worth your time to revisit, or perhaps you, dear reader, are one of those lucky folks whose never heard this work before. If that’s the case, you’re in for a treat! I don’t think that I’m off base here when I say that Beethoven saw what the Symphonic form could be, and by the end of his life, he had honed his craft and set the stage for the orchestral grandeur that would define the Romantic Period of classical music. As I mentioned earlier, Mr. Beethoven referred to those four opening notes as, “Fate knocking on your door,” but to me, the opening of this symphony doesn’t simply knock, it kicks the door in and does everything it can to change your idea of classical music. Happy listening; thank you for reading.