To begin, let me admit a bias: I’ve been attending
performances of the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra almost since the day they
first started offering concerts in the San Francisco Bay Area over thirty years
ago. They are, in my opinion, one of the best period-instruments ensembles in
the country; nay, in the world. Needless to say, their present recording of
Beethoven’s Fourth and Seventh Symphonies did not disappoint
me. If you think my highly positive predisposition toward the orchestra colors
my judgment, so be it.
First up, we get the Symphony
No. 4 in B flat, Op. 60 (1806),
the piece that often gets lost between the bigger and more popular Third and Fifth Symphonies. Compared to them, the Fourth Symphony may appear lightweight and something of a letdown
for a lot of listeners. Fortunately, Maestro Nicholas McGegan and the PBO
provide the Fourth such a vigorous
and spirited presentation that it sounds better than ever. Their performance
reminded me of Hector Berlioz’s description of the Fourth as “lively, nimble, joyous, or of a heavenly sweetness.”
Like a recent recording by Joshua Bell and the ASMF, McGegan and the PBO take
Berlioz’s depiction of the work to heart.
After an appropriately slow, sedate introduction (Adagio), the main Allegro vivace takes over, the tempo as vivacious and “vivace” as
one could want, with hints of the Pastoral
Symphony to come. You can almost see McGegan gleefully dancing through the
movement (as is his wont; he’s a very animated conductor).
The second-movement Largo
(one of Beethoven’s most relaxed) flows gracefully and sweetly along. The Scherzo
takes us through genuine Presto
territory and leads to a finale that inevitably reminds us of the first
movement, if at a slightly less-heightened step. McGegan forces the listener to
reevaluate the symphony’s worth.
Beethoven wrote his Symphony
No. 7 in A, Op. 92 in 1812, about half a dozen years after he wrote the Fourth. Critics sometimes identify it
with characteristics of the dance (“The apotheosis of the dance,” as Wagner
remarked), and it should certainly radiate a sprightly charm. Like the Fourth Symphony, the Seventh
begins with a lengthy preface, this time bigger and grander, before the
entrance of the main theme, again in a Vivace
tempo. And again McGegan and his players reward us with well-judged speeds and
rhythms, all of them springing to life with the utmost lyricism. McGegan does
it up most heartily.
The conductor next takes the Allegretto at a healthy but not extravagant walking pace, this
“processional in the catacombs” never turning into the full-fledged funeral
march we often hear. Beethoven marked the body of the third movement “Assai
meno presto” (very much less fast), which has led conductors to puzzle over it
ever since. McGegan takes a middle course, and the whole thing winds up less
hectic than some period conductors have played.
Then we come to the finale, which should sound wild and
swirling without going all crazy and breathless. You can hear a snippet of it
below, where McGegan shapes it perfectly: fast, energetic, and exciting, yet
refined and cultured, too. The PBO’s account of the Seventh Symphony stands with the best, most-thrilling versions on
record, on period or modern instruments.
The orchestra made the recording live during performances
in 2012 (No. 4) and 2009 (No. 7) at First Congregational Church in
Berkeley, California. I’ve listened to many a concert over the years at First
Congregational, and I can attest to the recording sounding pretty much as I’ve
always found the hall sounding. Which is to say, pretty good. However, by
“pretty good” I don’t mean to imply that the recording is better than the PBO’s
best non-live productions, like their Handel Water Music, Mozart Horn
Concertos, or, especially, their Vivaldi Four Seasons, which are clearer, tauter, airier, more dynamic, and
better focused. Nevertheless, as I say, both Beethoven recordings sound
lifelike enough, with almost no audience noise. What’s more, the engineers
edited out the applause after the first work, leaving only a burst of applause
after the final piece, the Seventh
Symphony. Perhaps in their next live production, they’ll eliminate the
applause altogether. Or, who knows, since the applause is admittedly a minor
detail, maybe I’m the only one in the world who disapproves of it interrupting
my appreciation of recorded music. Of course, we expect applause at live
events, and I have no objection; but a recording played in my living room is a
different experience. Yeah, I know, picky, picky, picky.
Anyway, the present recording sounds warm and resonant,
clearly a condition of the venue. There is a wide stereo spread, a quality of
the microphone placement, no doubt, which needs to be relatively close in order
to minimize audience noise. Inner detailing suffers a little from the natural
reverberation of the church setting, and the high end seems a tad limited,
perhaps because of the absorptive properties of the listeners themselves.
Otherwise, the sound opens up nicely, with plenty of ambient bloom and at least
a modicum of orchestral depth.
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:
JJP
