In the early 1960s, Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989) became fascinated by the movie director Henri-Georges Clouzot, who had directed “Quai des orfèvres” and “Mystère Picasso.” He suggested that Clouzot work with him on a “visual interpretation” of musical masterworks. Their fruitful collaboration included Schumann’s Fourth Symphony (1965), Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 (1966), Mozart’s Fifth Concerto (1966), Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony (1966) and Verdi’s Requiem (1967). The chemistry between the two men was unparalleled: the score becomes a script, the musical phrases are translated into cuts where the musicians are treated as “actors” of music. The director creates an extraordinarily captivating climate, reproducing in images all the nuances and strength of the work. Tracked by Clouzot’s camera, Karajan’s concentration is equally fascinating. Never had a conductor been filmed with as much strength and passion.
Bach, Suite (Overture) No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067
Commanding the podium with his slender figure, theatrical shock of hair and penetrating blue eyes, Herbert von Karajan projected the hieratic image of the conductor as officiant of some quasi-mystic rite. And anyone who ever saw him conduct live or on his many audiovisual recordings will agree that in his performances, music did indeed become a religion and Karajan its high-priest. Karajan (1908-1989) embodied classical music in the general consciousness as an epoch-making conductor, media star, opera producer, festival director and festival founder. But in spite of his Promethean and widely varied activities, he remained a superb conductor, with a grasp of the standard orchestral and operatic repertory from Mozart to Schoenberg that was unsurpassed among his peers.
Beethoven, Symphony No.5 in C minor, op.67
In the early 1960s, Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989) became fascinated by the movie director Henri-Georges Clouzot, who had directed “Quai des orfèvres” and “Mystère Picasso.” He suggested that Clouzot work with him on a “visual interpretation” of musical masterworks. Their fruitful collaboration included Schumann’s Fourth Symphony (1965), Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 (1966), Mozart’s Fifth Concerto (1966), Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony (1966) and Verdi’s Requiem (1967). The chemistry between the two men was unparalleled: the score becomes a script, the musical phrases are translated into cuts where the musicians are treated as “actors” of music. The director creates an extraordinarily captivating climate, reproducing in images all the nuances and strength of the work. Tracked by Clouzot’s camera, Karajan’s concentration is equally fascinating. Never had a conductor been filmed with as much strength and passion. In this recording of Beethoven’s monumental Fifth Symphony, Karajan is also shown discussing “The Art of Conducting,” explaining the conductor’s role and the manner of obtaining from the performers “the colors, volumes, dynamics, all the essential elements” to achieve a total interpretation.
Dvorák, Rehearsal Symphony No.9 in E minor, op.95 “From the New World”
Beethoven, Symphony No.6 in F major, op.68 “Pastorale”
When, in the mid 1960s, Herbert von Karajan decided to record on film all nine Beethoven symphonies with the Berlin Philharmonic, he began with the “Fifth” and asked the famous French movie director Henri-Georges Clouzot (Quai des Orfèvres) to direct. Recognizing in the music-loving director a kindred soul and master of the symbolic image, Karajan found an inspired partner. In another of Karajan’s first efforts, he asked six directors to “stage” one movement each of a Beethoven symphony. For a full week, the directors had the Berlin Philharmonic and Herbert von Karajan – all in full dress – at their disposal, with all the 35mm film, cameras, lighting and technical assistance they needed. Karajan’s most controversial production was Hugo Niebeling’s highly personal interpretation of the “Pastorale”, with its abstract shots of instruments, rapid rhythms, fade-ins and symbolically arranged colors.
Tchaikovsky, Piano Concerto No.1 in B flat minor, op.23
Commanding the podium with his slender figure, theatrical shock of hair and penetrating blue eyes, Herbert von Karajan projected the hieratic image of the conductor as officiant of some quasi-mystic rite. And anyone who ever saw him conduct live or on his many audiovisual recordings will agree that in his performances, music did indeed become a religion and Karajan its high-priest. Karajan (1908-1989) embodied classical music in the general consciousness as an epoch-making conductor, media star, opera producer, festival director and festival founder. Alexis Weissenberg, born in Sofia, Bulgaria, in 1929, gave his first triumphal recital in New York’s Carnegie Hall in 1947. He secured his international reputation especially with his interpretations of the works of Chopin, Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov.
Beethoven, Rehearsal Symphony No.5 in C minor, op.67
Beethoven, Symphony No.3 in E flat major, op.55 “Eroica”
Rafael Kubelik (1914-1996) was the son of the well-known Bohemian violinist Jan Kubelik. He studied music in Prague and made his conducting debut at 20 at the head of the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra. Later he became the principal conductor of this famous orchestra and founded the “Prague Spring” Festival. After the Communist takeover of the government, Kubelik emigrated to the West and returned to his native land only after the end of the Communist regime. From 1950 to 1953 he headed the Chicago Symphony, from 1955 to 1958 he was music director of the Covent Garden Opera in London. A period of great artistic successes began in 1961, when he was appointed principal conductor of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. Many recordings document Kubelik’s mastery and sense of artistry, his enjoyment of music and his temperament. His connection with the Munich orchestra lasted 18 years; in between, he also briefly served as music director of New York’s Metropolitan Opera. Kubelik retired from the concert staged in 1985. But on the occasion of the first Prague Spring Festival after the fall of Communism in 1990, he returned to the podium of the Czech Philharmonic after more than 40 years in exile and conducted Smetana’s “My Fatherland” cycle. His profound bonds with his native land and its composers were always clearly visible. Rafael Kubelik was a full-blooded musician. Every performance of his radiated a feeling of spontaneity, impulsiveness and joy. Kubelik died in Lucerne in August 1996 at the age of 82 after a long illness. Beethoven originally dedicated this symphony to Napoleon Bonaparte, whom he saw as the champion of the common man, a hero pursuing the newly founded ideals of the French Revolution: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. However, upon hearing that Napoleon had declared himself emperor, Beethoven became furious and tore up the title page containing the dedication. The “Eroica” marks one of the turning points in music history, heralding a new age in symphonic style. Prior to this work, Beethoven had been a composer with roots in the 18th century. The Third Symphony’s length and the nature of its thematic material, emotional depth, range and harmonic daring set it apart from any earlier symphonic work.
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.
Bach, Partita Diversa Sopra BWV 767 (“O Gott, du frommer Gott”)
For Johann Sebastian Bach, February 15, 1981 was no doubt one of the darkest days of his afterlife: on this day he lost one of his greatest champions in the 20th century, Karl Richter. Over the course of his long career as conductor, organist and harpsichordist, Richter had become synonymous with Bach. He founded the Munich Bach Choir and the Munich Bach Orchestra. He helped trigger the Bach revival in the 1950s. He was the spirit behind the Ansbach Bach Festival. He turned his adopted city of Munich into a Bach center. And he recorded all the major choral and orchestral works of Bach, including more than 100 cantatas. Richter was born on October 15, 1926 in Plauen, Thuringia, the Bach family’s native region. After his years as a choirboy at Dresden’s Kreuzkirche (“I sang in virtually all the cantatas and passions”), he studied in Leipzig with the St. Thomas cantors Günther Ramin and Karl Straube and was appointed organist at the Thomaskirche in 1949. He moved to Munich in 1951 and founded his choral and orchestral ensembles shortly thereafter. Karl Richter absorbed the Bach tradition from the source, in the cities where the composer had lived and worked. Although he saw several dramatic shifts in Baroque performance practice during his lifetime, he remained true to his own style, which was considered revolutionary in the 1950s and 60s. This was a “de-romanticized” Bach which featured a reduced body of performers more in keeping with the composer’s original forces. Richter’s style also accented a cool, brisk, almost abstract attitude toward the music, which eschewed exaggerated dynamics and rubato. In later years, Richter’s approach was itself ironically labeled “romantic” and old-fashioned by a new generation of Bach scholars, who applied even stricter criteria to what they considered “authentic” Baroque performance practice. One of the major causes of dissent was the use of genuine or reconstructed period instruments. Richter commented on this in 1976: “Who says that Bach wouldn’t have used modern instruments if he had had them? It might be informative and revealing to play Bach on historical instruments, but for me, it’s only a modish phenomenon that will fade away.”