Beethoven review by a fan

Sunday’s ACO concert at Hamer Hall began with Brett Dean’s Testament, a work inspired by Beethoven’s Heiligenstadt Testament of 1802. Written when Beethoven learned that his hearing loss was irreversible and would only continue to become more profound, the statement was addressed to the composer’s two brothers as a kind of will, though it is much more an anguished expression of despair over the state of his health and over his increasing sense of isolation. In it he laments his increasing deafness but also gives voice to his determination to find new ways and means to compose. Addressed though it was to contemporaries, the statement remained a private expression of the composer’s anguish throughout his lifetime: Beethoven never mailed it and it only emerged among his private papers after his death.

Originally scored for twelve violas, Dean’s Testament was more recently re-arranged for orchestra. Though I have never heard the original, I can only speculate that the re-orchestration has added significantly to the impact and poignancy of the piece. With the participation of woodwinds and drums the piece emerges as a sort of meditation on music making, an evocation of Beethoven’s determination to fully exploit the materials at his disposal. It is also evocative of his intense frustration: early in the piece various techniques mimic the distorted aural universe of impaired hearing – low-grade buzzing from a muffled snare drum, harsh muted rumbling from strings played with non-rosined bows, and high-pitched ringing from flute and piccolo. These effects enter, depart, and re-enter, interfering with and competing against tones and phrases in search of musical organization. In the end, however, victory is achieved as the composer presumed to be hearing these sounds – the Beethoven of Heiligenstadt – finds the means to continue composing. A confident, spirited finale emerges, free of sonic distortions.

The other two works on the program were composed within a few years of the Heiligenstadt Testament, during one of the most productive periods of Beethoven’s life. One a standard of the repertory, the other not, both were played with the same energy, daring, and conviction that one has come to expect from the ACO. The soloist, Dejan Lazic, managed to bring a new immediacy and freshness to a work that I for one didn’t think could ever sound new again. Some of Lazic’s phrasing was eccentric but it was often meltingly graceful and always compelling.

Passing the direction back and forth from each other, Lazic and Tognetti kept the inherent tension in the dialogue between orchestra and soloist extremely high. There were admittedly a few moments when it sounded as if signals might have been missed, but these were brief and in no way marred the performance. It was in fact this level of intensity and apparent willingness to take some risks that made the performance all the more exciting. (I mean the following in the most positive sense: At many ACO concerts, you can actually see the members of the ensemble ‘working’ with each other.)

This particular performance of the Fourth Concerto suggested a relationship between the soloist and orchestra that was more tug-of-war than polite dialogue. Nowhere was this more evident than in the opening of the 2nd movement. The insistent, belligerent figure from the strings seemed to be repelled – at first almost ignored – by the gentle lyrical motive on the piano, played pianissimo and with utmost sensitivity by Lazic. After repeated tussles – successive diminuendos from the orchestra against increasing boldness from the soloist – the two come to an understanding, though it’s the piano part that carries the day in that movement. Heard so soon after Dean’s Testament, it felt very much like a victory of lyricism over the opening almost purely rhythmic idea from the strings.

Lazic rewarded the audience’s enthusiastic applause with a whimsical rendering of Freundliche Landschaft (“Pleasant Landscape”) from Schumann’s Waldszenen.

The performance of the Fourth Symphony communicated the joyfulness and bravado of the work. The entire ensemble seemed to revel in the rhythmic drive of the piece, but Tognetti always managed to strike the right balance among sections, allowing the various orchestral textures Beethoven was exploring at the time to emerge with clarity. The use of the woodwinds – in particular the bassoons and oboe – in the fourth movement was especially remarkable.

And once again, the afternoon’s clever programming made it possible to listen with new ears. Looking backward, Dean used some of the same woodwinds in Testament. When those instruments emerge in exposed passages in the Fourth Symphony’s last movement an hour later, the ‘echo’ (retroactive, as it were) is strong enough to bring the underlying programmed message of Dean’s work back to mind. This listener at any rate was nudged to listen more closely and to reflect on Beethoven’s efforts at that particular anguished yet fertile juncture to use these sounds in new ways.

Hats off to Brett Dean for offering such a though-provoking, and touching, reflection on Beethoven’s Heiligenstadt crisis, and hats off to the ACO for another exciting, edge-of-your-seats performance.

Christopher Billy | Audience Member | 17 Nov 2009