With Beethoven’s most notorious symphony, WWFM – The Classical Network reaches the midpoint of its Beethoven marathon!
NOW PLAYING: Symphony No. 5 in C minor (Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique/John Eliot Gardiner)
At the time of the work’s premiere, many were confused by its opening motif—Da da da DAAAAAAA!! Now the world can’t seem to get it out of its collective head.
Beethoven was going through a great deal of emotional turmoil at the time, as he grappled with his increasing deafness, even as Europe was being rocked by the Napoleonic Wars.
We should count ourselves lucky that we’re able to hear it. Every one of Beethoven’s symphonies is a gift. Of course, it costs money to play them.
Help us deck the halls with boughs of Beethoven! Call us at 1-888-232-1212, or donate online at wwfm.org.
Here comes my annual post on Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1787).
For a man whose surname means “happiness,” he certainly could be a mercurial fellow.
Once, during an appearance at London’s Haymarket Theatre, Gluck strode onstage, not to sit down at a keyboard or to wow his audience on a stringed instrument. Instead he picked up two sticks and started to play an array of glasses filled with different levels of water – to the accompaniment of symphony orchestra. That’s just the kind of guy he was.
Another time, when conducting, a double-bassist hit a wrong note, and Gluck got down on the floor and crawled on his hands and knees through the tangle of humanity until he reached the offender and gave him a violent pinch. That too was the kind of guy he was.
He once had his piano carried out to a field to demonstrate that he enjoyed composing in nature. Perhaps this is just the kind of behavior one should expect from the composer of “Dance of the Blessed Spirits.”
We are forever hearing about Gluck – if we hear about him at all, that is – as being a reformer, and in truth his influence on the future of opera was incalculable. He shunned floridity for its own sake. Despite his evident love of nature, he was not a sensualist. He rebelled against the superficial effects of “opera seria,” with its showy arias ornamented beyond recognition by star castrati, to arrive at something closer to naturalism.
With Gluck, words and music bore equal weight. Drama was of the foremost importance. He tossed out the dry recitative to create a more continuous flow in the action. Performers took a back seat to emotional truth. The effect was kind of a chaste grandeur, simplicity at the service of theatrical power. Works like “Orfeo ed Euridice” and “Alceste” were radical for their time.
Gluck’s influence runs through Mozart to Weber, Berlioz and Wagner. Yet today his works are less frequently performed than those of any of his followers.
Find out more about Gluck in “Gluck the Reformer” (featuring John Eliot Gardiner, William Christie and others):
Happy birthday, Gluck. Please don’t pinch me if I got it wrong!
Chorus of the Furies from “Iphigénie en Tauride” (1778)
I’ve spent the bulk of the day writing about Sir John Eliot Gardiner for the Trenton Times. Gardiner will return to Princeton University’s Richardson Auditorium, with the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists, for a performance of Monteverdi’s “L’Orfeo,” on April 29 at 7:30 p.m. The same forces will present Monteverdi’s “Vespers for the Blessed Virgin” at Carnegie Hall the following evening. The Princeton appearance will honor the late William H. Scheide.
I probably wouldn’t have bothered to say anything until the article hits print on Friday (as always, I’ll provide a link to it here), except for the fact that I just noticed that today is Sir John Eliot’s birthday. Happy birthday, Maestro!
Here, the musicians perform Handel’s “Dixit dominus,” a work they brought to Richardson last June:
