by Richard Nilsen The Arizona Republic Mar. 28, 2010 12:00 AM
Herbert Von Karajan Conducts Beethoven Symphony No. 3 in E Flat Major 'Eroica', Op. 55
The mighty 9 symphonies of Beethoven
Beethoven's nine symphonies are the cornerstone of classical music. Every conductor cuts his teeth on them; every audience expects them. Their monumentality influenced every composer who came after him for at least a century, and even now, it's impossible to dip into classical music without addressing "The Nine," as they're known. But the symphonies are very distinct; each has its own personality. The Phoenix Symphony will be playing five of the nine over the course of its Beethoven Festival, along with the Violin Concerto and several shorter pieces. Here's a quick overview of the most famous set of symphonies in the repertoire. Please note that modern critics aren't the only ones who are idiots.
Symphony No. 1 in C
First performed: 1801.
Beethoven's first is his lightest, brightest and funniest, an obvious imitation of the spirit of his teacher, Joseph Haydn. Its jokes begin with the very first notes: a dissonance in the wrong key!
Initial critical response: One critic called it "a caricature of Haydn pushed to absurdity."
Suggested recording: No one has captured the wit of this symphony better than David Zinman and the Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich.
Symphony No. 2 in D
First performed: 1803.
Now considered one of Beethoven's "shorter, lighter" symphonies, it was a large symphony by the standards of the time and a challenge for its first audience.
Initial critical response: The Leipzig critic called it "a gross enormity, an immense wounded snake, unwilling to die, but writhing in its last agonies, and (in the finale) bleeding to death."
Suggested recording: Bernard Haitink and the London Symphony.
Symphony No. 3 in E-flat, "Eroica"
First performed: 1805.
This immense symphony single-handedly changed the course of music history; twice as long as the standard Haydn symphony and built on ideas of heroism, with a great funeral march as a slow movement.
Initial critical response: The leading music journal of the day described it as "a daring wild fantasia of inordinate length and extreme difficulty of execution. . . . There is no lack of striking and beautiful passages in which the force and talent of the author are obvious; but, on the other hand, the work seems often to lose itself in utter confusion."
Suggested recording: Many modern performances are too tame. For the needed heroism and grandeur, and the sheer visceral excitement, try Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic.
Symphony No. 4 in B-flat
First performed: 1807.
Robert Schumann called it a "graceful Grecian maiden between two Norse giants." It seems like a retreat after the furious charge of the "Eroica," but if it is less noisy, it is subtly subversive, with an introduction in the "wrong" key.
Initial critical response: Carl Maria von Weber wrote a review in which the orchestra instruments all bitterly complain about having to play this symphony and then are threatened with being forced to play the "Eroica" if they don't shut up.
Suggested recording: Claudio Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic are as elegant as it gets.
Symphony No. 5 in C-minor
First performed: 1808.
For two centuries, this has been Beethoven's calling card, the primal symphony, restless, turbulent, an epic struggle to wrest a triumphant C-major out of an obsessive C-minor, and with more than 700 relentless iterations of the iconic rhythm: "Da-da-da-dum."
Initial critical response: French critic Jean Lesueur said it was such exciting music that it shouldn't even exist.
Suggested recording: The music is so familiar, and so emotional, it's hard to play now without irony, but when attacked with conviction, it still packs a wallop. Wilhelm Furtwangler and the Vienna Philharmonic are still the champs in a pre-stereo recording, but in modern sound, Carlos Kleiber and the same orchestra come very close.
Symphony No. 6 in F, "Pastoral"
First performed: 1808.
This is Beethoven's musical picture of nature, complete with birdcalls and thunderstorm. But it's also one of the composer's most tightly argued pieces musically, with much of the symphony drawn from the first two bars: It's a miracle of concision, even when most discursive.
Initial critical response: Berlioz agreed with critics, "as far as the nightingale is concerned: the imitation of its song is no more successful here than in M. Lebrun's well-known flute solo, for the very simple reason that since the nightingale only emits indistinct sounds of indeterminate pitch it cannot be imitated by instruments with a fixed and precise pitch."
Suggested recording: Every critic's choice in this seems to be Bruno Walter and the pickup Columbia Symphony Orchestra.
Symphony No. 7 in A
First performed: 1813.
Richard Wagner called this the "apotheosis of the dance," and it is the most rhythmically driven of all symphonies; the second movement hardly contains anything but its rhythm. It all comes together in a Dionysian paean to the spirit of life.
Initial critical response: Weber expressed the opinion that Beethoven "was now ripe for the madhouse."
Suggested recording: Even though it's a pre-stereo recording, you have to hear Arturo Toscanini and the NBC Symphony in a driven performance that wrests every ounce of power out of the score.
Symphony No. 8 in F
First performed: 1814.
The composer looks backward with a smaller, almost Haydnish symphony, full of Haydnish "jokes," such as the metronome tick-tick of the second movement.
Initial critical response: One critic wrote that "the applause it received was not accompanied by that enthusiasm which distinguishes a work which gives universal delight; in short - as the Italians say - it did not create a furor."
Suggested recording: Georg Solti and the Chicago Symphony give a brawny performance of this work and include a really fine Symphony No. 7 as well.
Symphony No. 9 in D-minor, "Choral"
First performed: 1824.
Beethoven's magnum opus, which adds singers
and chorus to the symphony and expresses the composer's view of universal brotherhood and the joy of the cosmos. At more than an hour long, it is immense and usually performed for ceremonial occasions.
Initial critical response: "Beethoven is still a magician, and it has pleased him on this occasion to raise something supernatural, to which this critic does not consent."
Suggested recording: Despite mangling the finale by changing Beethoven's "Freude" ("joy") to "Freiheit" ("freedom"), there is no more committed performance than the one given by Leonard Bernstein at the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989.
