My listening post this evening is in shambles.
There’s wrapping paper, tissue paper, presents to wrap, and even a glass of white wine standing ready in case I get overwhelmed by it all.
My wife is in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the gingerbread houses we’ll give as gifts Christmas Day. (They’re spectacular, easily the best you’ll ever see.)
On the TV is yet another showing of White Christmas. Given how many times we watch it (usually at various times throughout the year), I’d say it’s not only one of my favorite Christmas movies, but one of my favorite movies in general.
That’s because I’m a sucker for big-production musicals.
Granted, Danny Kaye is no Gene Kelly, my favorite Hollywood hoofer, but he’s entertaining, especially in that scene with Vera-Ellen that begins with the song “The best things…happen when you’re dancing…”
In the scene on the TV tonight, the four main cast members – Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, Danny Kaye, and Vera-Ellen – pull into the yard at the Columbia Inn in Pine Tree, Vermont. They don’t know it yet, but they’re about to pull a Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney and say, “Hey! Let’s put on a show!”
While the four lovebirds recreate the Wallace and Davis set at the Columbia Inn, I’m sitting here listening to German conductor Otto Klemperer, the Philharmonia Orchestra, and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D minor.
I’ve encountered Maestro Klemperer eight times previous to this evening, on…
Day 12. Rating: “Huzzah!”
Day 30. Rating: “Meh!”
Day 48. Rating: “Huzzah!”
Day 66. Rating: “Meh!”
Day 84. Rating: “Huzzah!”
Day 102. Rating: “Huzzah!”
Day 120. Rating: “Huzzah!”
Day 138. Rating: “Huzzah!”
That’s six “Huzzah!’ and two “Meh!” ratings.
That’s a superb record that has only been surpassed by 2-3 other conductors in my Beethoven project.
Speaking of which, at the request of someone who’s been reading my blog, at the end I’ll post a compilation of results, indicating my Top 5 favorite CD box sets, and perhaps even my Bottom 5 least favorite CD box sets.
Don’t know for sure. At least the Top 5.
Before I proceed, let’s turn to the liner notes, written by Richard Osborne.
Klemperer completed the cycle in the autumn of 1957, the remaining recordings fitted around a festival of live performances of the complete symphonies and piano concertos with Claudio Arrau as soloist. The crowning glory was Klemperer’s realisation of the Ninth Symphony with [Walter] Legge’s newly founded Philharmonia Orchestra under the direction of Bayreuth Chorus Master Wilhelm Pitz. The reading summed up why Klemperer’s Beethoven in general and his Ninth in particular had become a modern touchstone, standing as it did midway between Toscanini’s essentially dramatic view of the music and Furtwangler’s more expressive mists-of-time conception.
Beethoven wrote his symphonies in four parts (except for the Sixth, which is in five). The time breakdown of this particular one (Symphony No. 9 in D minor), from this particular conductor (Klemperer, at at 72) and this particular orchestra (Philharmonia Orchestra), at this particular time in history (October 31 & November 21-23, 1957) on this particular record label (Warner Classics) is as follows:
I. Allegro ma non troppo, un poco maestoso………………….17:03
II. Molto vivace………………………………………..15:38
III. Adagio molto e cantabile……………………………..15:02
IV. Finale…………………………………………….24:30
Total running time: 72:13
My Rating:
Recording quality: 5 (slight tape hiss throughout, but for a recording that’s 61 years old, it’s forgivable; clear, well balanced, nice violin sound and tone…ditto for the French horn)
Overall musicianship: 5 (magical, a truly exceptional performance)
CD liner notes: 4 (standard Warner Classics booklet with lots of information, and an essay about Klemperer in English, German, and French)
How does this make me feel: 5 (“Huzzah!”)
Once again, Maestro Klemperer hits it out of the park.
This is an exceptional recording of an inspired performance. I was drawn in and became part of it. By that, I mean, I listened with eyes closed and imagined I was in the auditorium during this recording.
I felt those instruments. I felt the passion and – for want of a better word – love Maestro Klemperer had for the subject matter. It was palpable.
Even though Movement II is my favorite, I was deeply moved by Movement III, allowing the instruments to wash over me. The pizzicato somewhere in the middle of the movement was so delicate and lovely, almost plaintive.
Movement IV is big – no, make that gigantic. Huge. Massive. The instruments – because it was recorded so well – blast out of the speakers. But not in a wall of sound like I’m at a Motorhead concert; rather, I can hear each instrument. (Not literally. But the separation between them all is obvious. There are highs and lows, rather than just a pulverizing midrange.)
This is one of those recordings that I can feel.
And it feels magical.
“Huzzah!”