Billed as “Bernhardt and Beethoven,” the Chattanooga Symphony opened is regular concert season at the Tivoli on Thursday evening with a bang-up performance featuring an all-Beethoven concert. This is the second year in the three-year cycle dedicated to performing all Ludwig’s symphonies, concerti, his lone opera, plus miscellaneous works you may or may not know by the master.
Of course, the program began with the normal tuning up, National Anthem, and a welcome by a CSO-related dignitary who also thanked the evening’s corporate sponsor and asked that everyone turn off their cell phones—precisely at which moment one began a merry tune (it wasn’t Beethoven) right down on the front row. Everyone laughed, double-checked their phones and we all enjoyed a whole concert free of those digital devils.
And enjoy a concert we did, beginning with “Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72a.” Poor Beethoven really didn’t have the personality to compose operas for he had to deal with singers and management and librettists over a protracted period, and for a creative genius who marches to his own internal drummer, that can drive almost anyone around the musical bend. It nearly did Beethoven. He worked and revised and eventually composed four different overtures. And then, on opening night, French troops invaded Vienna, and nobody much turned up at the premier. After that, things really went downhill, and by that time Beethoven wished he’d never heard of opera. But part of the composer’s efforts to get it right resulted in this concert’s opener. It was actually too symphonic in scope for the opera and has become a separate work, enjoyed for its highly focused and tightly wound energy. From the opening chord, the CSO performed with superb ensemble and nearly flawless intonation. Conductor Bernhardt was in total control, leading his players in an absolutely electrifying performance that included the famous off-stage trumpet call, played brilliantly by new principal trumpet Brian Turnmire.
Next came Beethoven’s only violin concerto, in D-Major, Op. 61, composed in 1806 (the same year as the overture) for violinist Franz Clement. Like many of the composer’s works, it was a stretch for listeners—being longer and more complex than previous concerti—and it took a while to catch on. Eventually, however, it became recognized as the model for all later Romantic violin concerti and is one of the most popular in the repertoire. It was performed on this series by Mark Peskanov, a violinist of international stature who began his studies in Russia at age seven. He studied at Julliard with Dorothy DeLay and has since captured most major awards in the violin world.
On stage, Peskanov is a large and imposing man with a head full of black, curly hair. He seemed much at ease as he dove into the first movement, Allegro ma non troppo, that included an impressive cadenza which recapitulated much of the entire movement in a torrent of melody and multiple-stopped harmony. The second movement—Larghetto—included a gorgeous arabesque of melody suspended above the supporting orchestra followed by a haunting melody over hushed, pizzicato strings. The music seemed to exude a sense of great reverence, as if we were listening to the secrets of some hidden wisdom. The final movement was a typical rollicking rondo with a catchy little tune that both begins and ends the piece.
Perhaps it was just my relative lack of enthusiasm over this particular concerto, but the performance, with the exception of a few brilliant flashes, never seemed to get out of low orbit. Mr. Peskanov’s tone tends toward the bright side rather than the rich end, and he didn’t seem to take a lot of chances, playing it safe musically. Notwithstanding, the enthusiastic crowd at the Tivoli was more impressed, demonstrating their appreciation with a standing ovation.
After Intermission, the program continued with yet more Beethoven, this time the “Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92” composed in 1812. It was premiered on a program along with the bombastic “Wellington’s Victory” featuring musical cameo appearances by some of Vienna’s rich and famous.
The audience apparently seemed to prefer the highly programmatic “Victory” piece with its musical battle between the French and English to the new symphony. Fortunately, history has corrected that embarrassing gaff in taste, and Symphony No. 7 is a recognized masterpiece.
It begins with laser-focused energy and develops a great sweeping theme from the single-pitch dialog between the strings and winds. Beethoven’s music is difficult to play cleanly because of all those exposed, punctuated chords the composer forever keeps tossing it; but the CSO did it nearly flawlessly. In addition, the range of sudden musical contrasts which is part of Beethoven’s style was handled impressively by Bernhardt. And the fullness of the moderate-sized orchestra’s sound was quite amazing.
The second movement—Allegretto—sets out with an insistent and haunting theme above a whispered hush in the low strings as the basis for this set of theme and variations. Here Beethoven provides a brilliant set of possibilities that bare the musical soul, offer glowing lyricism, and develop into a fugue. This was inspired playing of inspired music.
Never one to be content with things as he found them, Beethoven often took the traditional third-movement waltz and force-fed it musical steroids, producing one very hyper scherzo. This was no exception, and the ride was exhilarating right from the opening chords that burst into a galloping dance. The fourth and final movement—Allegro con brio--was nothing less than a musical sprint to the finish line as Bernhardt drove his players in a white-hot passion. For this opening concert, the orchestra performed with great energy, focus, and intelligence—Beethoven the way it ought to be heard.