Beethoven, Piano Concerto No.4 in G major, op.58

The premiere of this concerto took place at a marathon concert organized by Beethoven at Vienna’s Theater an der Wien on 22 December 1808. The program included the world premieres of Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy and Symphonies Nos. 5 and 6, the Vienna premiere of the Piano Concerto No. 4, and excerpts from other works by Beethoven – more than four hours of demanding contemporary music by a “difficult” composer! The soloist opens the concerto with a theme that seems like a gentle echo of the forceful “Fate” theme that opens the Fifth Symphony. The Andante is a kind of dialogue between the two different temperaments: the stark and stern strings, and the gentle, pleading piano. The boisterous finale rushes through a variety of contrasting moods before bringing the piece to a rousing close. Karl Böhm conducts the Wiener Symphoniker and the pianist Wilhelm Backhaus (1884-1969), who was over 80 years old at the time and had been playing this Beethoven concerto for 70 years already. One of the eminent piano virtuosos of the 20th century, he was renowned above all for his performances of Beethoven.

Dvorák, Symphony No.9 in E minor, op.95 “From the New World” (and Rehearsal)

In 1892 Antonin Dvorák accepted the invitation of a wealthy Mrs. Thurber to become the director of her National Conservatory of Music in New York. During the time he spent in America, he composed, among other works, the Symphony No. 9 (originally published as No. 5) “From the New World”. Dvorak was fascinated by Negro spirituals and the songs and dances of American Indians. In an interview, he claimed: “In the Negro melodies of America, I discovered all that is needed for a great and noble school of music.” Though the pentatonic and modal scales he used in the Ninth Symphony can also be found in folk music of many countries, including his native Bohemia, the melodies of the Ninth have become indelibly associated with America. Particularly “American” in flavor are the flute melody of the first movement, which recalls the spiritual “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”, and the theme of the slow movement. The symphony was recorded during a concert given by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra under Karl Böhm at Vienna’s Musikvereinssaal in the late 1970s.

Documentary on the Filming of “Elektra” – “Do I hear the music? It pours out of me.”

The “Elektra” documentary is the last testimony to a life of artistic fulfillment, an homage to the conductor Karl Böhm. The streets and squares of Vienna unfold before our eyes as the automobile bringing Karl Böhm to the recording studio drives through the city with which Karl Böhm had the most intimate musical relationship. And when he steps up to the conductor’s desk in the Sophiensaal, we are about to witness his last great performance. We see him conversing with the singers and the orchestra, rehearsing, criticizing, encouraging, and reminiscing: “Strauss once told me¿” At the end of the production, after Elektra’s dance, he sits back silently in his chair – exhausted but happy. On 14 August 1981, shortly after the shooting of the film, Karl Böhm died, aged almost 86. His death marked the end of an era. This documentary provides fascinating insights into the work of the director Götz Friedrich. And it also illustrates the dramatic power of musical tragedy, for example in the masterful depiction of Clytemnestra by Astrid Varnay, herself once a fabulous Elektra, and in the outstanding interpretations of top singers such as Leonie Rysanek, Catarina Ligendza, Hans Beirer, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Josef Greindl, Kurt Böhme and others.

Die Fledermaus (The Bat)

Full of fizz and subtle humor, “Die Fledermaus” (The Bat) has become a staple of New Year’s Eve programming in many opera houses around the world. In this sparkling production, director Otto Schenk has freed it from the conventional bonds of the theater, broken it up into fully telegenic, whirling visual sequences, and heightened it with the tumultuous gaiety prescribed by Strauss. Act II, often a stiffly staged ball, has at last become one great hurly-burly, a huge festival, an orgy of swaying figures – drunken or otherwise intoxicated. Foremost among them are the frenzied Eberhard Wächter as Eisenstein, the delicious Renate Holm as Adele and the noble Gundula Janowitz as the long-suffering Rosalinde, who does a magnificent gypsy dance. Competing for the title of show-stealer are fabled Bayreuth tenor Wolfgang Windgassen as Prince Orlofsky and actor-director Otto Schenk himself as Frosch. Karl Böhm leads the Vienna Philharmonic and the Chorus of the Vienna State Opera in this spirited recording.

Mozart, Requiem K. 626

The Requiem is not only Mozart’s last composition, but also the one most shrouded in mystery. The purportedly enigmatic patron who ordered the work and the fatal illness that befell Mozart while he was working on it long nurtured the macabre legend of Mozart composing his own Requiem mass commissioned by Death himself. The Requiem was completed by Mozart’s friend and pupil Franz Saver Süssmayr on the basis of Mozart’s sketches and instructions. The somber woodwinds and brass, the artless melodies and the stirring shifts from intricate contrapuntal writing to mighty homophonic blocks convey an otherworldly, apocalyptic feeling seldom encountered in Mozart’s works. Despite its almost operatic solo passages and large orchestra, the Requiem was intended for the church, and is indeed an ideal work for the theatrically sumptuous and brilliant Baroque churches of Austria and southern Germany. Karl Böhm was universally acclaimed for his Mozart interpretations. Though Wagner was one of Böhm’s first loves, his friendship with Richard Strauss led to a deep knowledge and appreciation of Mozart. In his autobiography, Böhm wrote that “Richard Strauss revealed to me the ultimate secrets of this, in my opinion, greatest of all musical geniuses, Mozart.” Böhm’s discovery of these secrets transformed his Mozart interpretations into unforgettable events. Filmed in Vienna’s resplendent “Piaristenkirche”, this recording of Mozart’s Requiem features the illustrious Mozart singers Gundula Janowitz, Christa Ludwig, Peter Schreier and Walter Berry.

Rehearsal for Schubert, Symphony No.7 in C major, D.944

In the throes of his mortal illness, Franz Schubert (1797-1828) heroically succeeded in putting to paper his splendid last symphony, whose “divine lengths” are truly unique. Composed in 1825/26, Schubert’s largest symphonic work was first discovered after his death by Robert Schumann and first performed one year later, in 1839, by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy in the Leipzig Gewandhaus. In marked contrast to the equally beloved “Unfinished” Symphony, Schubert devises a labyrinth of harmonies in a piece full of artless directness and joyful dance-like rhythms. Echoes of the visionary secrets of Romanticism surface from the depths of the work, only to be washed away by the inexorable current of the melodies. Never did Schubert write with such a lavish and impetuous hand than in his Ninth Symphony: “…it bears the eternal seed of youth within it.” (Robert Schumann) Karl Böhm rehearses the Wiener Symphoniker in this recording made in the mid 1960s.

Schubert, Symphony No.7 in C major, D. 944

In the throes of his mortal illness, Franz Schubert (1797-1828) heroically succeeded in putting to paper his splendid last symphony, whose “divine lengths” are truly unique. Composed in 1825/26, Schubert’s largest symphonic work was first discovered after his death by Robert Schumann and first performed one year later, in 1839, by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy in the Leipzig Gewandhaus. In marked contrast to the equally beloved “Unfinished” Symphony, Schubert devises a labyrinth of harmonies in a piece full of artless directness and joyful dance-like rhythms. Echoes of the visionary secrets of Romanticism surface from the depths of the work, only to be washed away by the inexorable current of the melodies. Never did Schubert write with such a lavish and impetuous hand than in his Ninth Symphony: “…it bears the eternal seed of youth within it.” (Robert Schumann) Karl Böhm conducts the Wiener Symphoniker in this recording made in the mid 1960s.

Rehearsal for Beethoven, Symphony No.7 in A major, op.92

After four years of symphonic silence, Beethoven presented Vienna with his Seventh Symphony in 1813. The first performance of this work was a spectacular event. The long awaited Seventh was completed in May 1812 when the Austrian capital was recovering from the French occupation. The defeat of Napoleon’s armies made the concert an occasion for celebration, and this historical event helped ensure the work’s enormous popularity and the composer’s lasting fame. The Seventh Symphony is essentially rhythmic, rather then thematic, to such a degree that Wagner called it “an apotheosis of the dance”. it is one of the best examples of how Beethoven used simple harmonies and filled them with energetic, repetitive rhythms, which never become monotonous because of the fresh harmonic progressions that accompany them. Karl Böhm rehearses the Wiener Symphoniker in this recording made in the mid 1960s.

Beethoven, Symphony No.7 in A major, op.92

After four years of symphonic silence, Beethoven presented Vienna with his Seventh Symphony in 1813. The first performance of this work was a spectacular event. The long awaited Seventh was completed in May 1812 when the Austrian capital was recovering from the French occupation. The defeat of Napoleon’s armies made the concert an occasion for celebration, and this historical event helped ensure the work’s enormous popularity and the composer’s lasting fame. The Seventh Symphony is essentially rhythmic, rather then thematic, to such a degree that Wagner called it “an apotheosis of the dance”. it is one of the best examples of how Beethoven used simple harmonies and filled them with energetic, repetitive rhythms, which never become monotonous because of the fresh harmonic progressions that accompany them. Karl Böhm rehearses the Wiener Symphoniker in this recording made in the mid 1960s.

Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro)

Few conductors have mastered the fluidity of melodic control, the rhythmic drive and the dramatic characterization of Mozart’s operas to the extent of Karl Böhm. This production, filmed in London in 1976, abounds in splendid singers, all of whom give performances of the highest vocal and dramatic distinction: Hermann Prey is the definitive Figaro, charming in his vigorous self-confidence; Mirella Freni’s Susanna is a personification of innocence and beauty; Kiri Te Kanawa’s Countess is a touching portrait of wronged womanhood; Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau’s Count is a deceitfully flirtatious despot; and Maria Ewing’s Cherubino is a passionate study of adolescent naivety. Böhm’s wonderfully supple conducting reflects his lifelong devotion to Mozart. Jean-Pierre Ponnelle’s direction perfectly translates the polished stylishness and the beauty and warmth of Böhm’s musical direction into scenes and character portrayals of luminous naturalness. “And what a gloriously photogenic and euphonious cast led by the uniquely differentiated quartet of Fischer-Dieskau’s subtle Count Almaviva versus Hermann Prey’s defiant Figaro, and Kiri Te Kanawa’s honeyed Countess versus Mirella Freni’s not at all playful Susanna. Great singers all, they were guided by Ponnelle in a production without a moment of cliché¿ The playing of the Vienna Philharmonic under Böhm couldn’t have been more Mozartian.” (The Daily Telegraph, 9.3.77) “A million-dollar TV Figaro that improves on the original… Productions of this caliber have been televised from stages before, but never has the dramatic and visual potential of opera freed from such constraints been so ambitiously addressed. The result is eye-opening, and despite an occasional overuse of the new tools, the production establishes beyond doubt that the TV screen can add an important new dimension to the operatic experience.” (The Washington Post, 5.10.77)