I have heretical opinions about music. Do you? I’ll give you two of my biggest.
I think Act II of Così fan tutte is too long. I think Act II of The Magic Flute is too long. These are Mozart masterpieces. A lot of people agree with me, although few are reckless enough to say so in public.
But I have an opinion even more heretical than the ones I have just stated.
Some years ago, I asked a critic friend of mine whether he was going to a particular concert. No, he said. I was surprised. I thought he would want to hear the orchestra, and the conductor, in question. I asked, “Why aren’t you going?” He answered, “Because the ‘Eroica’ Symphony is on the program, and I’m sick of being bored by that work.”
I was shocked. Not at the opinion. At the fact that someone was expressing it, without blushing or hesitating at all.
No doubt, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 in E flat, the “Eroica,” is a masterpiece—like Così fan tutte and The Magic Flute. Also, it’s a pivotal work in the history of music, signaling the beginning of a new era. But I have always found the symphony . . . well, a little long, and—forgive me—a little dull, ultimately.
You can spend years of your life listening to the Finale, waiting to get up for intermission, or to go home.
Now, this is not necessarily the fault of the symphony. Often, it is badly interpreted: ponderous, slow. Weighed down.
E flat is one of Beethoven’s special keys, one of his go-to keys. It conveys majesty. It certainly does that in the “Eroica,” and in the “Emperor,” i.e., the Piano Concerto No. 5. But E flat can do more than that, in these and other works.
Four of Beethoven’s piano sonatas are written in E flat—including “Les adieux.” These sonatas convey a variety of moods: the leisurely, the inward, the puckish, etc.
In any event, the New York Philharmonic opened its concert on Friday morning with the “Eroica” Symphony. On the podium was Gustavo Dudamel, who will become the orchestra’s music director next season.
It went really well, the “Eroica” did.
The first movement was brisker than usual—not too fast and not rushed, but nicely and helpfully brisk. It was also light on its feet. There was an energy through the sound—of the strings, the woodwinds, and the other instruments as well. The French horns behaved.
Is this legal?
The first movement had more in common with Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1 and Symphony No. 2 than with, say, Mahler’s Symphony No. 8, the “Symphony of a Thousand,” which is also in E flat. It is important not to make the “Eroica” too grand.
I suspect that people see the very name—“Eroica,” meaning “Heroic”—and make the work too heavy.
I cherish a remark made by Toscanini. Someone asked him, “Maestro, what does the first movement of the ‘Eroica’ Symphony mean?” He said, “What does it mean? It means Allegro con brio in E flat.”
Listening to the first movement on Friday morning, my ears pricked up at the oboe. Who was that player? She was Juliana Koch, of the London Symphony Orchestra, paying a visit to our own city. Maybe we will see her, and hear her, more regularly.
The second movement is the funeral march. It was funereal, but not a dirge. The third movement is the scherzo—and it was scherzesque, to use a word I invented years ago. It was fleet, crisp, and properly accented. Again, the French horns behaved.
And the pizzicatos near the beginning of the Finale were accurate—another minor miracle. The Finale as a whole did not drain the life out of you. On the contrary, it was vital.
I have never experienced a less dull, more invigorating “Eroica” in all my years of concertgoing.
For about twenty years, I have reviewed Gustavo Dudamel, who made his New York debut in 2007, I believe. I have never been a Dudamelista—I mean, a true believer. I have heard him deliver brilliant performances; I have heard him deliver pedestrian ones (many). I have found some of the enthusiasm surrounding him puzzling.
But Friday’s concert bode well—very well—for the “era” to come. For his tenure at the New York Phil.
After intermission, there was a single work, as there had been before intermission: The People United Will Never Be Defeated!, by Frederic Rzweski. Weren’t we just talking about this piece? Yes, in January, when Igor Levit played it (again). (For my review, go here.) People is a piano work, but it has now been orchestrated—and that is the version, of course, that the Philharmonic played.
I will discuss it, and the performance, in a forthcoming chronicle for our print magazine. In the meantime, suffice it to say, Friday’s concert was a happy experience, all the way around.
