By Lyn Bronson
As everyone knows who attends the Carmel Bach Festival, there is one concert at its end called “Best of the Fest” that has always been a hands down popular favorite. Well, there is another that belongs in this category called the “Aha” concert, and the one this week features David Gordon as a brilliant, amusing and congenial host (I used to describe him as an affable “host,” but he told me he wasn’t quite sure what I meant by that). During this presentation Gordon gave us a highly entertaining lecture featuring live musical demonstrations by assorted Festival musicians and soloists.
Each season the “Aha” concert focuses on a different aspect of the Festival, and this year it was Beethoven’s turn. Thought you knew a lot about Beethoven, did you? Well, no matter how much you thought you knew, Gordon knows a lot more. Did you know, for instance, that Beethoven, although he had a dark swarthy complexion, had brilliant white pearly teeth, and that fastidiously after every meal he carefully and rigorously polished his teeth with a linen napkin? Did you know that, although Beethoven was well acquainted with the Rhine and Danube rivers, he never saw the ocean?
Lest you think that his concert was a potpourri of trivia, let me assure you this was not the case at all, for the main thrust of Gordon’s presentation was that we know more about Beethoven from his letters, journals, diaries and conversation books, than we do about any other composer. Contrary to the popular image of Beethoven as a stern, angry misanthrope, who was rude and abrupt to friends and acquaintances (and worse to those he despised), when Beethoven arrived in Vienna he was rather pleasant and eager to please (we might even call him “affable”). He wanted to fit in to Viennese society and even wrote some conventional music ― some examples of his less than inspired music turned up on the program in the form of the Menuet from the Septet in E-flat Major, Op. 20 and the Triumphmarsch, Tarpeja, WoO2a, and even though not top drawer they added some entertainment to the program.
But, much more importantly, we heard a lot about Beethoven’s humanity. He was a man with deep feelings about his fellow man and about the injustices in a society still dominated by a frivolous monarchy and aristocracy. Not wanting to serve a prince in the capacity of a liveried servant, as did Haydn, Beethoven proclaimed his own worth in a most forceful manner. That he could be tender and also love deeply was evidenced by Gordon’s reading of excerpts from the “Letter to the Immortal Beloved.” That Beethoven was also able to express such deep feelings in song was heard in the lovely performance by Alan Bennett and David Breitman of the song, Adelaide, an outpouring of yearning for an idealized and apparently unattainable woman. It was a beautiful and moving performance!
Beethoven’s gradual loss of hearing profoundly affected his life and his relations with people. What was often construed as rudeness or misanthropy was most likely his acute embarrassment at not being able to hear and understand what people were saying. His anger and frustration about his progressing deafness was illustrated by Gordon’s reading of very powerful excerpts from the Heiligenstadt Testament.
However, during the evening, music was still the most important stimulus, and the glorious performances of the Overture from Prometheus, the Menuet from Symphony No. 1, the Cavatine from the String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat Major and the two offerings from Fidelio (Mir ist so wunderbar and O Gott! Welch’ ein Augenblick!), represented music making on a very high order indeed. The vocal soloists, Kendra Colton, Sally-Anne Russell, Alan Bennett, Sanford Sylvan, Thomas Cooley, Kathleen Flynn and David Newman had major roles during the program and their fine performance added immeasurably to the success of the evening.
Mr. Breitman was on hand, not only to provide a lovely accompaniment in Alan Bennett’s performance of Adelaide, but also in a solo capacity to perform the last movement of Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata on a fortepiano. Although he played this presto finale with a great deal of passion and style, the sound of his period style instrument was weak and tinkly ― sounding like a bad piano heard through an old car radio. Perhaps trying to recapture the charm of 18th century keyboard instruments is a bit like trying to recapture the charm of 18th century plumbing or 18th century dental and medical procedures.
Perhaps the most remarkable performance of the evening was Meerestille und glűckliche fahrt. Before the performance Gordon described how, at a time when all ships were powered by wind, being becalmed was a frustrating experience. In an amazing feat, Beethoven depicted the profound silence of being becalmed (remember, never in his life had he ever seen the ocean) with extraordinary pianissimo effects from the strings and chorus. Bruno Weil demonstrated both effects separately and then together. This was a performance we will never forget.
Speaking of forgetting, if a video DVD were available of this concert, I would be one of the first in line with checkbook or credit card ready to make a purchase. That’s how much I enjoyed this concert.
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