Beethoven. Master. Period.

I didn’t want to upstage the New York Times review of Missa Solemnis at the New York Philhamonic, so I left this post until after press time for the Friday paper. I love that rag and wouldn’t want to hurt their sales anymore then I already do with my massive readership.
Last night I saw my first true live classical music performance of this experiment. This seems strange to say as I am nearly 6 month in and that most of my listening experiences have been solitary (if you don’t count my iPhone as a person). Alan Gilbert conducted a new composition, Al Largo, created just for the event by Magnus Lindberg and Beethoven’s devotional Missa Solemnis.
I felt much the way the NY Times reviewer Tommasini did regarding Lindberg’s composition. I felt like I was dropped in the middle of a film score and like the title implies, out at sea without my bearings. It flowed and floated and crashed beautifully, but there was no context for me to connect with. I imagined the oil spill, growing and ascending on beach heads and marshes, coating the sea in its darkness. Ultimately it was an appetizer for the Beethoven.
Missa Solemnis is another story all together. It is a beautiful, rousing piece of music that while religious in subject seemed much more like a meditation. Rather than an awe inspiring Mass, it was a beautiful piece of music with the added richness of voice. This is probably a simplistic way to see it, but I am not a seasoned reviewer. I loved seeing the performance, all the bows stabbing at the air and the subtle wave of horns and woodwinds creeping out from behind them. If I have ever seen such an expression of true composition in person, it has most likely been in some film or epic painting.
For me the part that comes together when you see those maestros and concertmasters and position players all on the stage at once is an overwhelming sense of the composer’s mastery. Beethoven and Lindberg both used every color on the spectrum and every note that could be offered. Beethoven built a cathedral of music, maybe a bit too ornate at times, but requiring all the skill an architect can muster.

Katie Commodore's thoughts on our evening at The Philharmonic can be seen on her blog right here!

(Full Disclosure, tickets provided by the NY Philharmonic)

Dropping some knowledge on Tonight's NY Phil Performance

I listened to an excellent podcast this morning about the 2 pieces of music I will be hearing tonight at the New York Philharmonic. Magnus Lindberg composed A Largo just for the occasion and it refers directly to the Missa Solemnis. Here is a painting of Beethoven that supposedly shows him writing the Missa Solemnis, but I imagine he was probably just thinking about when he could put on his flip flop's and spark up the BBQ. Ok, I'm projecting...

Beethoven/Lindberg at the Phil

The NY Times has a fantastic piece from the "Into the Music" column about Beethoven's Missa Solemnis.

I was very excited to read this as I will be headed to the New York Philharmonic on Thursday for the performance of Magnus Lindberg's Al largo and Missa Solemnis.

FROM THE NY PHILHARMONIC WEBSITE:

“From the heart—may it go to the heart!” Thus did Beethoven inscribe the manuscript of his magnificent Missa solemnis. He was at the height of his creative powers when he wrote his solemn mass—a supreme achievement by any standard—rarely performed because of the superhuman demands it makes on all performers. Originally planned for the March 1820 installation of Archduke Rudolph as Archbishop of Olmütz, his important patron and student, the work was not completed in time. Perhaps it was that the mass had grown in importance from merely a work for a particular special occasion, to a statement of his deepest—if unorthodox—religious beliefs. Beethoven wrote to the Archduke, “My chief aim when I was composing this grand Mass was to awaken and permanently instill religious feelings, not only in the singers, but also in the listeners.” During his work on the mass a change seemed to take place in Beethoven, described by his friend Anton Schindler on a visit to composer’s home. “In the living room, behind a locked door, we heard the master singing parts of the fugue in the Credo—singing, howling, stamping…. the door opened and Beethoven stood before us with distorted features, calculated to excite fear. He looked as if he had been in mortal combat with the whole host of contrapuntists, his everlasting enemies. … ‘Everyone has run off and I have had nothing to eat since yesterday noon.’” Right from the beginning, Beethoven’s music derives its feeling and form from the meaning of the texts…from the pleading of the Kyrie (Lord have mercy) to the jubilant Gloria, with its the concluding shouts of “Gloria.” The dramatic Credo follows, then the Sanctus and a beatific Benedictus. Most mystifying, however, are the final pages, in which pleas for peace are underscored by the sound of martial drumbeats… as though suggesting that war is ever with us.