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The spark of the gods
Järvi’s lyric line
Friday, October 20, 2006
By Paul M. Somers
New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, Neeme Järvi (conductor), Janice Chandler-Eteme (soprano), Christine Abraham (mezzo-soprano), Richard Clement (tenor), Kevin Langan (bass), Montclair State University Chorale, Heather Buchanan (preparing conductor). Beethoven: Symphony no. 1 in C major, op. 21; Symphony no. 9 in D minor, op. 125 (“Choral”). Prudential Hall, NJPAC, Newark.
More voices than any of us attending the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s (NJSO) opening night could count let fly with Friedrich Schiller’s “Freude, schöne Götterfunken, Tochter aus Elysium …” The final pages of Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9 were hair- and roof-raising. The chorus was the Chorale of Montclair State University (MSU), very well trained by Heather Buchanan, again emphasizing the relationship the NJSO and MSU have built over the past few years.
Conductor Neeme Järvi’s performance, always seeking the lyric line, began as a brooding evocation, rather than the pre-big-bang coldness one often hears, more informed by myth than by science. Järvi thus connected it to the Storm movement from Beethoven's “Pastorale” Symphony, which uses the same motive. And by anchoring the work in rich emotion, Järvi also connected it forward to Wagner’s much later Das Rheingold, for Beethoven begins in A minor (the *dominant) and then crashes into D minor (*tonic), while Wagner spends many minutes elaborating a primal E-flat chord (dominant) and then opens the curtain on A-flat major (tonic). Both reveal themselves to be emotional expressions of nature devoid of the coldness of scientific exploration and hot with the passion of facing untamed Nature.
The fiery second movement erupted as an expression of compulsive drive. Timpanist Randall Hicks of course had his big moments beginning in measure five, but Järvi never tried to hide the insistent timpani parts which mutter and rumble in other parts of the movement.
The Adagio’s wind solos and sectional playing were the epitome of woodiness, the same quality one would want for the “Pastorale” Symphony. The note relationship of this movement to the slow movement of the “Pathetique” piano sonata is always evident, but here Järvi encouraged the musicians to find the same sense of calm lying at the heart of the piano movement. The result was intimate phrasing in the hands of the individual players being held together by the well formed large shapes sculpted by Järvi.
The long *arioso cum *recitativo for celli and bassi which makes up the earlier sections of the Finale is a staple for low strings (it is so important as a bass excerpt that it is included in at least one method book). It was seamless, imbued with the *legato that is one of the conductor’s trademarks.<
Often Järvi can be seen urging on musicians with a subordinate musical line to become more expressive, while seeming to ignore the more prominent solo going on at the same time. This generous habit was revealed again as he led the quartet of solo singers. The two men have all the important solos, so Järvi assumed that they would know what they were doing and would certainly be heard. Instead, he let them be and turned to the two women (soprano Janice Chandler-Eteme and mezzo Christine Abraham), whose music is all ensemble, and led them through their passage work so specifically that it was elevated to great importance. Both singers took advantage of the occasion with spirit and fine voices one hopes to hear again in truly solo parts.
Bass Kevin Langan and tenor Richard Clement were not of the Wagnerian variety so often preferred today. Exactly why this preference has developed is probably simply a matter of “if it’s German it must sound like Wagner,” but also in play in part of Schiller’s text is the word “Held” (hero) which suggests a “Heldentenor” should sing it. But that discussion is for another article.
In this case the singing was expressive, and, even with large forces, the soloists were loud enough to be heard. Thank goodness this was not two overblown Wagnerians going at it. Instead there was an italianate sensibility lying behind the men’s German diction. Langan’s opening solo was lyric, not barked out syllable by syllable as too many do. Clement let his solo with its *Turkish march accompaniment ring out firmly.
As for the orchestra, one would be hard pressed to remember a time when they played any better, though under Järvi they have been having more and more of those “none better” performances. A catalog of the expressive solos would simply be a list of the wind principals and the brass section.
The concert began with Beethoven’s Symphony no. 1 (the clever conceit of the concert’s title was “The Beethoven Route: 1 & 9” — those numbers being placed inside the “US Route” symbol since those are two of the nearby major highways in New Jersey which are merged into one road in this part of the state). Just as the Ninth begins in the “wrong” key, so does the First begin by leading one to believe that the piece will be in F, not in C. In fact, the whole slow introduction goes by without any statement of a *cadential C major chord. This is of course Beethoven’s creation, but Järvi emphasized this sense of irresolution in his underlying pulse which always pushed forward searching for home.
All the *tempi were perfect, balances well designed, and precision finely honed. But those things are fundamental to a conductor at Järvi’s level. What he provided in addition was a large dollop of Beethoven’s sense of humor, which in this first symphony is Haydnesque. In addition to the ambiguous tonality of the introduction, the gradually growing statement of a major scale beginning on G which begins the final movement had the basic ingredient of great comedy: perfect timing, with a witty pause before the F-natural reveals the scale to be C, not the F-sharp of G major. Then there was the sudden *forte inserted into a series of repeated chords in the winds. A check of my (admittedly non-*Urtext) score showed no forte, but it was so in character and so risible that it was “authentic” even if it is not actually there.
After such a jovial beginning and impressively moving conclusion to the concert, there was an instant standing ovation. Järvi, a past-master at good-humoredly milking applause, kept the audience’s hands banging together for awhile, then took the podium again for the expected encore.
At the end of the Ninth, the soloists, as usual, were sitting down with their mouths shut for the final ecstatic phrases. So it was a most appropriate change that when the encore proved to be a repeat of the final minutes of the symphony, the soloists, their parts officially over, never the less stood and sang the choral parts full out, an emendation which should become standard in performance. The soloists certainly loved it, singing along spiritedly from memory with the chorus.
At one point during the final series of ovations a champagne toast was offered in honor of the new season. That it was offered by John Wooster, the Special Advisor for Communications of AIG Insurance, was a recognition that AIG has taken on the sponsorship of the NJSO nationwide radio broadcast series. Bravo to them! The entire audience was made part of the toast in the lobby after the concert as each person was given a souvenir champagne flute filled with bubbly.