Beethoven's place in Western cultural history stands firm, no matter how often resisters resist or fulminators fulminate. In a weird way, the amount of negativity one encounters towards LvanB bears potent witness to his relevance. People don't have conniptions about the ultimately baleful influence of Ludwig Spohr.
For every anti- there is an equally fervent pro; sometimes one might even encounter an occasional middleground type who considers Beethoven to be "OK" on the whole, no big deal.
I can't keep from wondering if those OK-no-big-deal types have experienced all that much Beethoven, however. LvanB just didn't operate on the midway level. Outside of a few quick-buck embarrassments (Wellington's Victory, the cantata A Glorious Moment), Beethoven's output can upset every applecart one cares to roll into place. The more time you spend with Beethoven, the more you are drawn in.
Sometimes it's difficult to imagine a world without those nine symphonies; heavens, what cornerstones they are! From the classically-oriented First through to that gargantuan Choral symphony that has so haunted subsequent generations (Joseph Kerman: "we live in the shadow of the Ninth"), they constitute five some-odd hours of musical construction that continue to fascinate, thrill, move, and (it must be said) occasionally repel.
For the past nineteen years I've taught Beethoven's C Minor Symphony (the Fifth with its signature four opening notes) to my freshman-level class at UC Berkeley. Typically at the end of the previous week's classes I advise my students to sleep well and eat their Wheaties, perhaps even invest in a suit of armor, in preparation for the journey to come. Naturally I say that mostly to get a laugh (I'm one of those professors with a penchant for larding lectures with standup comedy routines), but really I'm only half-kidding — well, at least about the suit of armor.
My aim in teaching the Fifth is for my students to get a little beat up, to tell the truth. If some are offended by the symphony (a few invariably are) then that's just great. Nobody gets to leave unscathed, if I can help it. The only reaction I'd rather not elicit is indifference. I'm unfortunately constrained sonically by having to use a smallish sound system (and out of consideration for my colleague teaching next door), but if I had my way I'd crank up the volume to rock concert levels, risk starting a tremor on the Hayward Fault, crack a few windows here and there.
That's the way to hear the Fifth: loud, blaring, practically barbaric there towards the end as Beethoven just pounds C Major chords over and over. Maybe it's joyous, maybe it's victorious, maybe it's pure bloodlust.
On occasion somebody tells me that "classical music can be so relaxing." Uh, huh. How about I take you through the Eroica, Fifth, Seventh, or Ninth on my home stereo with its B&W Nautilus speakers? Then you tell me again about that relaxation jazz — but of course, I can wait until your hands have stopped shaking.
The odd-numbered Beethoven symphonies, starting with No. 3 (the Eroica), then 5, 7, and 9, are the big kahunas of the nine. The even-numbered ones, in particular 4 and 8, are less in-your-face but hardly shrinking violets. No. 6, the Pastoral, is a bit of a special case in that it's a programmatic work that tells a story. And then the first two symphonies are relatively early works — but no less 100% LvanB for that.
So, what if one is interested in exploring them? Where on earth do you start? Your best bet is to arm yourself with one of the recorded 'cycles' of the symphonies — i.e., all of them in one boxed set, performed by the same orchestra and conductor. The downside here is that you miss out on some of the great renditions that aren't part of a cycle, but if you become a Beethoven Symphony afficionado, you'll find them. So here are a few recommendations:
- George Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra: in print, various re-releases, for the past forty-plus years. I love the beautiful boxed set from Sony/BMG in the "Original Jackets" series, but they can also be found in less-expensive single-disc offerings, and of course online.
- David Zinman conducting the Tonhalle Zurich: an incredible bargain in a budget-priced set that is anything but budget in the performances.
- Herbert von Karajan conducting the Berlin Philharmonic: there are actually three cycles with Karajan and the Berliners. The first was made in 1963, and is considered by many to be his best. Deutsche Grammophon has even remastered it into SACD. I'm also quite partial to Karajan's earlier cycle with London's Philharmonia Orchestra, beautifully remastered (in clear monophonic sound) and released by EMI this year as part of the conductor's 100th anniversary.
This coming week at the San Francisco Symphony, Finnish conductor Sakari Oramo conducts the Beethoven Seventh in A Major. The mighty 7th is in some ways the quintessential Beethoven symphony, so if you are interested in a bit of LvanB exploration, this could be a great place to start. The program notes are by yours truly, so you can even have a bit of a read-up in advance.
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