Beethoven Rocks!

Oh, yes, ladies and gentlemen, he does.

On Friday evening I was invited St Mary's Cathedral to listen to the Choral Arts Ensemble, joined by the University of Portland Singers, a professional orchestra and some wailin' soloists, perform the Choral Fantasia and the Missa Solemnis by Ludwig van Beethoven. I first became aware of this performance when a few weeks ago Megan Elliott kindly left a comment on a previous blog entry of mine and then a few days ago I saw it advertised and, as I am currently on a Beethoven jag and still thinking about next season’s Fidelio and turning over in my mind just what I do think about Mr. van B and his vocal works, it seemed appropriate I should go hear the Mass which Beethoven himself declared to be his masterpiece. One does not often have an opportunity to hear this work performed. Why? Because it's damned difficult, that's why! Most amateur choirs can't sing it. This choir could sing it. Had to go, really.

The “warm-up” to the Missa Solemnis was the Choral Fantasia for piano, orchestra and chorus. Now, let me be frank; I can't take this piece very seriously. Beethoven wrote it to end a concert in 1808 which premiered his Fifth Symphony (da da da DUM!), his Sixth Symphony (the Pastoral) and his Fourth Piano Concerto. Yeah, like there was a concert which seriously needed a filler. I think he wrote it one day between breakfast and lunch. It was still better than anyone else at the was writing but nevertheless...The story goes that Beethoven played piano for the first performance and that he had to improvise somewhat because not all of the piano part had been written. I find this a particularly charming story because that's precisely what happened at the first performance of Gershwin's “Rhapsody In Blue.” By the way, Rachmaninoff was at that performance. And Rachmaninoff was a friend of Tchaikovsky. Am I the only one who thinks it extraordinary that a friend of Tchaikovsky should have been witness to the Jazz Age?

What surprises me about the Choral Fantasia is that everyone says "Oh. It was Beethoven's dress rehearsal for his Ninth Symphony" which is not an inapt comment but what people seem to overlook is that he didn't write the Ninth for another sixteen years. What I don't understand is why people don't similarly comment that it was a dress rehearsal for his Fifth Piano Concerto written the very next year after the Choral Fantasy. Aren't they listening? The chromatic runs, the runs in thirds, the rhythms, the whole darn thing...come on, folks! Put on a CD of these two works - this is the Fifth Piano Concerto writ small. In Friday's performance the piano part was played by Thomas Lauderdale. Mr. Lauderdale was into it. He played it very well. It held no terrors for him - virtuosic a piece tho' it is. He played it, conducted it, sang it and I have no doubt that had it been required of him he would have danced it. I don't say this in any way snarkily (is that a word? It is now). What I seek to convey is the joy Mr. Lauderdale brought to every bar of what he played. It's that sort of piece and he was the very man for it. While I may not take the piece seriously, let there be no doubt that he does. You know, there is a very real difference between being involved and being committed. Take sausages: I like sausages very much and when I have them I feel I am involved in sausages. But the pig is committed. Mr. Lauderdale was committed to what he was doing. At the end I was left with the very satisfying feeling that he had brought every ounce of his significant technique and talents to bear on the piece and done the composer proud. The punters loved it. I loved it.

The main course was the Missa Solemnis. Now this is a horse of an entirely different color, If Beethoven conceived this as a dress rehearsal for anything at all I am not sure I want to be there for opening night. And while I believe that artists are not always their own best judge if Beethoven considered this to be his best piece…okay, Ludwig, I ain't about to argue with you. It's stunning. Really. Stunning. It is scored for full orchestra, vocal soloists and Choir-Who-Had-Better-Be-Into-It.

The orchestra under maestro Roger Doyle, was tight and responsive. The soloists, including Portland Opera's old friends Richard Zeller and Angela Niederloh were in very fine form and the chorus made a glorious sound. We in the nave of the cathedral were unfortunate in that the design of the space made for difficulties of balance between the different musical forces. Perhaps we may have been helped had the soloists been situated between the orchestra and the chorus and I am quite sure the words chorus sang would have seemed more distinct had they been singing from a spot designed for that purpose. This is none the less a work of enormous power and there was no doubting the sense of professionalism and commitment that was brought to bear. I was thrilled and moved.

Because I am somewhat pre-occupied with Fidelio at the moment I took the opportunity to chat with Richard Zeller about Beethoven/opera/Fidelio/choral stuff in general and see what he might opine. I was not disappointed. He offered two very insightful remarks. He pointed out that the Missa Solemnis is really just opera without all the acting. He said that what he means by this is that Beethoven's approach to the liturgy is very dramatic and that Beethoven took that sense of drama to a level beyond that which we associate with, for instance, Mozart. So, said Zeller, the emotional level is heightened in a way the musical world had not seen before and which still resonates with us today in a very visceral way. His other observation was that he thinks Beethoven's feel for sound color was more instrumental than vocal. Not that he didn't know how to write for the human voice, just that his feel was for instruments and that when he wrote for the voice it was as though he had written for an orchestral instrument but had added words. I have given this a good deal of thought and I really think Richard has something there. When I listened to the concert performance of Fidelio I kept thinking about how the music was so different from what Mozart would have written even though they were not so far apart chronologically and I think Zeller has nailed it: Beethoven wrote everything as though it were for an orchestra. Good call, Richard!

Now I shall listen to Fidelio again. I think you should bookmark the web site for the Choral Arts Ensemble so you can keep an eye on what they are doing. I plan to. Just one more thing. There seem to be two traditions honored at just about every performance I attend in Portland. One is the standing ovation. Elsewhere this is something reserved for a particularly fine performance. Here it seems to be accorded to anyone who turns up and doesn't forget his lines/music. So what do you do for an outstanding performance? Who knows. The other has become a singular bug bear of mine. At some stage a person connected with management feels compelled to stand up and tell us how grateful we all should be for the sponsors of that group or show. Don't do it. It's unnecessary and it's tacky. If your sponsors wish to be recognized that's fine. Put their name in the printed program. I found this back-patting particularly egregious when it was interposed between the two halves of the Missa Solemnis. I couldn't help but think: roll over, Beethoven! I suspect that he did.

By the way, the picture this week had nothing to do with anything. I just thought it was cute.

And finally, in honor of the visit to the USA by Pope Benedict XVI you may wish to see a very old tape of one of his predecessors.

Have a good week. I'll probably have something here again in a day or three.