Seckerson's Choice: Herbert von Karajan - Orchestral and Choral
Seckerson’s Choice presents a regular series of playlists curated exclusively for IDAGIO by the broadcaster and critic Edward Seckerson. Here he explores the recorded legacy of Herbert von Karajan, a conductor who was 'one of a kind and the last of a kind.' This personal selection – naturally focussing on Karajan's legendary work with the Berliner Philharmoniker – covers orchestral and choral works, reflecting his core repertoire as well as some of his more unexpected musical excursions.
Read more…The image is indelible: Karajan on the podium. Before the downbeat. Still. Concentrated. The lowered face, the closed eyes, the aura. The great Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra was an extension of his musical imagination, his own personal instrument leased for the duration. He was one of a kind and the last of a kind. When, before or since, has a conductor returned to the stage alone to acknowledge applause after the orchestra’s departure? That was the norm for Karajan – there was no pretence at modesty, no false humility. It was as much about him as his orchestra and the composers they served.
The results were spectacular – albeit very particular in colour and cast – and beyond the sheen, the famed Berlin 'sostenuto', there was depth and resonance and breathtaking beauty. And somehow you surrendered to the underlying suspicion that there was invariably more Karajan than any given composer in the mix. Characterisation was not his strongest suit. His kinship with Beethoven (though unfashionably and amply romantic to contemporary ears), Brahms, Bruckner and especially Strauss made those the go–to events and the go–to recordings. But Stravinsky famously loathed his slick, teutonic 'Rite of Spring' and there wasn’t much evidence of the Russian soul in his celebrated recordings (most especially the earlier one) of Shostakovich's Tenth Symphony.
Much the same criticism might be levelled at his stunningly executed account of Prokofiev's Fifth Symphony. Its gloss – not least in the heady 'Romeo and Juliet' intimations of the slow movement – robs it of all Slavic grit. But it is an intoxicating confection played to within an inch of its life. Likewise the famous coupling of Debussy's 'La Mer' (rosily Monet–esque) and Ravel's 'Daphnis et Chloe' Second Suite where daybreak's slow sensuous arrival is almost indecently seductive.
Karajan's repertoire was full of surprises – like his thrilling account of Honegger’s sacred and profane and decidedly Gothic Third Symphony "Liturgique". But he would cherry–pick the pieces – Dvořák, Nielsen, Shostakovich, Prokofiev or even Mahler symphonies – that fired his imagination and steer well clear of anything that didn’t.
Sibelius was a special area of interest and accomplishment for Karajan – he truly championed the symphonies and the key orchestra tone poems. But perhaps not surprisingly it was the searching Fourth Symphony with its enigmatic icy wastes and darkly Mahlerian slow movement that brought out the very best from Karajan and his spectacular band. The sheer depth of sonority from the opening page onwards is quite astonishing. It is often said (well, at least by me) that this music comes up through the bass lines. Nowhere more so than here.
Karajan's monolithic Bruckner must have a place here, of course, and the live 1988 performance of the monumental Eighth – with the Vienna Philharmonic on this occasion – assumes the ascendancy as only a great performance can. Though not a natural Mahlerian in my view (nothing febrile or neurotic about the Karajan persona) his reading of the valedictory Ninth is far too good to be excluded from this playlist.
The Brahms 'Requiem' and Bruckner 'Te Deum' are both infused with an operatic fervour that adds another dimension to their impressiveness (I shall address Karajan's Opera catalogue on another occasion). And then there is Richard Strauss. That special kinship will come as no surprise to anyone. In the opera house or concert hall the alchemy between Strauss' orchestral (and vocal) wizardry and Karajan’s supersonic Berliners, to say nothing of the meeting of two great egos, ensured the music felt custom–made. Which is not to imply superficiality. 'Metamorphosen' for 23 solo strings was a Karajan speciality and with all its wartime connotations dug deep.
But it was the autobiographical 'Ein Heldenleben' ('A Hero's Life') with its sharp–tongued critics and thunderous battlefield triumph of will that became Karajan's most celebrated and spectacular calling card whenever he and his orchestra travelled the world. I heard them showcase it live on a couple of memorable occasions and as the critics were routed and past achievements movingly put to rest to the rising triad of 'Also Sprach Zarathustra' there was never any doubt as to who the true hero of day was – why Karajan, of course.
– Edward Seckerson