By Dave Read, Lenox, MA, August 25, 2024 performance – Another Tanglewood season has passed, with all its redemptive power, all its contemplative force. The Boston Symphony Orchestra almost always concludes its Berkshires sojourn with a performance of Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Opus 125, by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), which was first performed 200 years ago.
The great cellist and world citizen, Mstislav Rostropovich, conducted the first performance I attended, here in the Koussevitsky Music Shed, in 1999. Today, last minute replacement conductor Ludovic Morlot elicited a nonpareil performance from the orchestra, whose multitude of sound melded seamlessly with the poetry of Friedrich Schiller’s Ode to Joy to send the audience, now practically levitated from their seats, into the after-Tanglewood chapter of their year.
The Tanglewood Festival Chorus, whose first performance in 1970 was Beethoven’s Ninth, has settled snugly into the second half of its first century, now under the direction of James Burton, who succeeded founder John Oliver in 2017.
Organizations such as the BSO (nee 1881) don’t reach the august stage of the ancients without due reverence for anniversaries. Celebrations also lessen the load on box office workers, because who would dare to miss a bicentennial performance of Beethoven’s Ninth in the Koussevitsky Music Shed in the 150th anniversary year of Koussevitsky’s birth, especially since the Ninth was the first piece he scheduled for performance at Tanglewood?
Way out here in the hinterlands, how drab would August be without Koussevitsky’s legacy, without the summertime tenancy of musicians from around the world, which affords us such refuge from the world of woe our people’s republic has become. I beg your leave to address what I perceive to be an error in the notes in today’s program book, where it says “…the words come from Beethoven, not Schiller.”
The sentiment may be Beethoven’s, but the words were chosen and arranged by Schiller. Beethoven could have asked a painter to produce a visual image of his symphony – and there’s no shortage of painters who have attempted to portray heavenly human harmony, but that wouldn’t make the painting his, any more than Schiller’s work is.
Metaphor is the writer’s piano, by which we speak the language of music, painting, architecture, sculpture, and dance with one tongue. Without the addition of Schiller’s poetry, audiences are left alone to find the right words – to find sensible expression for what Beethoven’s music amounts to in the soul.
Nor should we overlook the genius it took for Beethoven to paint outside the lines, to think outside the box, and marry the choral with the orchestral, which produced the singular work of art that is Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D minor. And we’re glad for the waves of reflected glory that comfort Schiller in otherwise chilly posterity.
As a prelude, Tanglewood Festival Chorus director James Burton led the chorus in Bruckner’s Ecce sacerdos magnus, for chorus, three trombones, and organ. The vocal soloists, who added unnameable shades and tones to Schiller’s Ode were Ambur Braid, soprano, Jess Dandy, contralto Elgan Llyr Thomas, tenor, and Davóne Tines, bass.