Beethoven: Symphony number 9 (Fricsay/Berlin Philharmonic)

Before I begin this, my first review here of a piece of music, a caveat. I’m strictly a listener. I can’t read music. I know only a little music theory. Musicians and those well versed in music probably won’t get much out of this review, beyond my personal impressions. Now, with that out of the way…

My earliest impressions of Beethoven – the recording that established the base for me by which all other performances of Beethoven’s symphonies are judged – are mostly by the Berlin Philharmonic. The very first records I ever bought as a teenager were Wilhelm Furtwängler’s recordings of the Third, Fifth, and Seventh symphonies. I chose them in part because they were mono recordings. I had just gotten an old record player – a record player, not a stereo – from my mother, and I wanted some non-stereo records I could play. (I won’t try to go into why I decided to give Beethoven a try, and why I wouldn’t go anywhere near my mother's few records, which were all bad country recordings.) Furtwängler’s fit the bill, and they were reasonably priced (read “cheap”); I bought them and listened to them time after time for weeks.

I strayed away from the Berlin for a while, trying out Toscinini’s recordings (his recording of the Sixth is still one of my favorites), but then, when I decided to try some full priced recordings, I came back to the Berlin Philharmonic, this time conducted by Herbert von Karajan, and for a while Karajan was the Beethoven conductor for me. I realize that Karajan is one of those who many love while many others hate. I loved his work (at least his work with Nineteenth Century composers like Beethoven, Brahms, and Schubert; I’m less fond of his Mozart). His brisk tempos and tight control defined Beethoven for me when I was in my twenties.

Over the years, I’ve listed to many other recordings. Some I’ve liked a lot in their own ways – Karl Bohm, John Eliot Gardiner, Nikolaus Harnoncourt – and others I’ve not been as fond of (I found Roger Norrington’s recordings to be disappointing, for example). Recently, though, my Amazon recommendations included one for a recording of the Beethoven Ninth that I wasn’t familiar with: Ferenc Fricsay’s 1958 recording with the Berlin Philharmonic – the first stereo recording of the Ninth. It’s part of Deutsche Grammophon’s “The Originals” series. It’d been years since I bought a new recording of the Ninth, so I thought I’d give it a try.

I probably don’t need to say much about the Ninth itself. Either you’ve heard it a number of times or you’re most likely not still reading this review. But it’s an incredibly powerful work. It ranges from barbarous to frenetic, from majestic to tragic to gloriously joyful as it finishes with its famous choral movement. It’s always dangerous to try to assign “meaning” to a symphony, but the Ninth, given it’s “ode to joy” final movement points the way to at least one interpretation. I’ve always looked at it as showing, musically, our overcoming our baser selves in favor of community, friendship, and joy. The first three movements of the symphony show barbarism, show primitive, frenetic energy, then, in the third movement, tend toward tragedy and sadness. But all of this is overcome in the fourth movement by an immense outpouring of happiness and joy. The movement even emphases this, in the way it starts. In the first few minutes, the major themes of the first three movements attempt to return, only to be driven back by the themes of the finale.

Fricsay’s performance is powerful, but at the same time very straightforward and to the point. In many ways it feels both majestic in the ways it brings out all the grandeur and sweep of Beethoven and at the same time lean. The overall structure – the architecture if you will – is laid bare for us to hear, in ways that it’s not in the hands of some other conductors. His tempos are powerful and controlled, though not as brisk as those of Toscanini or Karajan. He uses some variation of tempo, though not the way Furtwängler did. Overall, the effect is one that emphasizes the power of the music, laying it all out for the listener. (A you read this paragraph, I hope you remembered my initial caveat about my not being a musician. I don’t really know the best way to say some of the things I’d like to say about music. Perhaps I need to review more music, as a way of learning.)

The Berlin Philharmonic in his hands – as it was for Furtwängler earlier and Karajan later – is a finely tuned instrument that hits a false note and always responds precisely to the conductor. The chorus and soloists are good, coping even with some very difficult passages. (It’s been said that Beethoven didn’t really understand the human voice and there are few short sequences in the Ninth where he comes as close to tripping up as anywhere in his major works.) The whole affect is a good one. This is one of the truly great performances of the Ninth, ranking with Furtwängler’s and Karajan’s best (Karajan recording the Beethoven cycle several times).

Fricsay died young, at age 48. It’s a shame, as he probably would be as well known as Karajan had he not done so. I’m going to look for more of his recordings.