BEETHOVEN: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 “Choral”; Leonore Overture No. 2, Op. 72b – Kerstin Lindberg-Torlind, soprano/Else Jena, mezzo-soprano/Eric Sjoeberg, tenor/Holger Byring, bass/Danish Radio Chorus/Danish Radio-Symphony Orchestra/Fritz Busch
Guild GHCD 2343, 77:15 [Distrib. by Albany] ****:
A no-nonsense, virtuoso account of the Beethoven Ninth from the baton of Fritz Busch (1890-1951), whose aggressive, driving approach will make auditors think of Toscanini on a particularly tumultuous afternoon – 7 September 1950. More than virile, the opening movement asserts a grimly elastic drive that possesses a rhythmic fury quite wonderful and not a little scary. This Busch version may well accomplish what Furtwaengler achieved in his 1942 Berlin reading, a cautionary, moral indictment of a world gone mad. The underlying, shimmering strings that support a voluptuous swelling in the basses and tympani add a nervous fever to the unraveling of the Maestoso passages, girded by contrived pianissimos that stop on a musical dime. The controlled coda rises in a sea-surge of elemental power, Proteus’ eyes aflame with devastating intentions. So, too, the Scherzo rampages through the imperious tympani and trumpet work, eliciting sparks along Phaeton’s path that might illuminate or consume the cosmos. The rhythmic thrust threatens to break beyond control of mere mortals, each return of the opening impulse having gained some new, demonic power. Busch does not slow down for the trio section, urging his woodwinds and strings to skitter under the horns, where even the bassoon and oboe contribute to some magisterial, celestial occasion.
Woodwind miracles open the mesmerizing Adagio molto e cantabile, and a luminous song it is. As this remains the only account of the Ninth we have with Fritz Busch, we can only speculate what the same work would sound like were he leading the Vienna Philharmonic! The Danish Radio-Symphony strings and horns, however, can hardly play more fervently, and the first theme’s opening into sunny aether makes for a pathos quite beyond words; or perhaps, can lead only to the words of the poet. Like Toscanini, Busch sets a basic pulse from which he never wavers; yet, the elasticity, cadential melos, and dynamic flexibility he achieves testify to a thorough master of his art. Listen to those string pizzicati and high flute as the second theme begins its own, exalted evolution–dizzying. One propulsive spasm, and we enter the throes of the last movement, vehement and driven. After the thematic “flashbacks,” Busch initiates the main theme, moving with sentiment but no sentimentality. When the music explodes with force, the urgency is already on the furious vocalism of the motifs. The four soloists represent excellent members of various Scandinavian opera houses of the period, and soprano Lindberg-Torlind makes an immediate impression of a gifted coloratura. The first period having ended, the bassoon, cornet, flute, triangle, cymbals, and tenor usher in the scherzo, and a happy march celebrates the good in Man. A fierce stretto fugato from Busch, then onward to the “Seid umschlungen, millionen” adagio. The evocation of seraphim becomes tangible, a Heaven on Earth. Rarely has the Handelian fervor of the score been so realized, except by a few like Furtwaengler and Horenstein.
The Leonore Overture (24 October 1949) appears to link the pathos of Fidelio with the Adagio of the Ninth Symphony, if the opening Allegro alla breve bars are any indication. But the ensuing drama dissipates the stellar and exalted vision into a turgid struggle between light and dark forces, with staccato e pianissimo triplets pass between first flute and first violins. Busch’s command of the rhythmic maenads exerts its selfsame uncanny power, the strings and winds whistling up scales both musical and political. All passes along fairly sotto voce until a terrible explosion occurs, and Beethoven the purveyor of tonal volcanoes erupts, culminating with the blazing horn call to freedom. The last minute hurls into a maelstrom of chthonian energy, a convulsion barely contained by musical notation. The sheer exaltation of expression defies us to come and listen.
–Gary Lemco
