Blomstedt conducts Beethoven

Which is better: performing Beethoven in the grand symphonic style that emerged in the late Romantic era, or with the tighter, more limited instruments and audience expectations of the composer's era (as preferred by John Eliot Gardiner, the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique, and the early music revival)?

On the one hand, why deprive Beethoven"“ who was in some respects the first truly "modern" composer— of the benefit of improved instruments and the richer sense of ensemble and interpretation afforded by two centuries of later experience?

On the other, why romanticize and retrospectively impose sounds and ideas that Beethoven never intended? Beethoven was quintessentially a composer of the Enlightenment, and that era of clockwork precision has been superseded by the "Clockwork Orange" that sometimes pervades our musical sensibility.

In last weekend's concerts with the Philadelphia Orchestra, pianist Leif Ove Andsnes and conductor Herbert Blomstedt demonstrated that the best elements of both approaches could be combined in performances whose impact was nothing less than stunning.

Ingmar Bergman's land

Both musicians were reared in a Swedish culture that merges serious contemplation with emotional expressivity (think of Ingmar Bergman's films). Beethoven's Third Piano Concerto gave them an opportunity to perform a work that straddles between the classical temperament of Beethoven's inspirer Mozart and teacher Haydn on the one hand and the rich interpretive potential of the romantic era on the other.

Ansdnes, well known for his masterful execution of the Grieg Piano Concerto, and Blomstedt, who has traversed much of the orchestral literature with the best orchestras and also brought the world's attention to the music of Carl Nielsen, achieved great precision and coordination while at the same time creating a contemporary feeling of presence and vitality.

When the precision of the playing itself establishes the emotions and meaning of a work, it becomes the highest art. As the philosopher Wittgenstein wrote, "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent." Such parsimony of expression, reflected in Andnes' discipline and Blomstedt's (and the Orchestra's) transparency, respects the composer's intent as much as today's historical reconstruction of what the music may have sounded like to him.

Of course, Beethoven was losing his hearing at the time. What he heard in his mind, we'll never know.

Symphonies before Eroica

Beethoven's Third Symphony (the "Eroica") has been considered the first truly modern masterpiece of its genre, and for good reason. Until its debut, the symphonic form— an elaboration of the sonata form— was in a sense chamber music for a larger ensemble. A symphony was not so much a magnum opus as an ordinary part of a composer's output. Haydn wrote 104 symphonies and Mozart 41 in a short lifespan.

In those days, musical greatness was achieved through exceptional craftsmanship, melodic and contrapuntal gifts and influences, and internal consistency.

With the Eroica— which coincided historically with the earth-shattering political and military developments of the Napoleonic age— Beethoven incorporated operatic and theatrical elements as well as enriched orchestration to construct a symphony that was both a personal and universal testament, in this case to the heroic struggle to master one's destiny.

Beethoven's first risks

While the Eroica clearly arose from the Classical mold, it presaged and made possible Mahler's view of the symphony as incorporating whole worlds within it, as well as Shostakovich's introspective, brooding 20th-Century response to troubling developments in Soviet life. The symphony became a way to tell an important story on a large plane.

In addition, at that point Beethoven started taking the musical risks that became his trademark. He used repetition for emphasis and tension. A short phrase by the French horn eccentrically appears well before the main motif of the horns, only later becoming apparent that it belongs there. This kind of purposeful fragmentation is a hallmark of Beethoven as well as much of the music of the following century.

Modern German tradition

Blomstedt, however, didn't try to bring out or highlight such developments, as a Bernstein might. Instead Blomstedt followed in the tradition of the great German conductors of the early and mid-20th Century, like Mengelberg, Furtwangler and Kleiber. These maestros were never afraid to evoke the most intense feelings, both subtle and powerful, but they emphasized a transparency in which all the parts can be clearly heard.

Blomstedt achieved just that. He evoked intense passion through the music itself, holding back the tempo ever so slightly for emphasis, and controlling the dynamics for maximal effect.

This was orchestral music in the grand style. Yet the ensemble effect was faithful to the times in which Beethoven lived and composed: precise, taut, and time-bound.