Showing posts with label Anton Webern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anton Webern. Show all posts

24 October 2023

The Legendary Live Berg Concerto, 1936

Alban Berg and Anton Webern
Not long ago I wrote about the first commercial recording of the Violin Concerto by Alban Berg, written shortly before his death in 1935. The soloist was Louis Krasner, who had commissioned the work. Artur Rodziński conducted the Cleveland Orchestra.

The concerto's premiere had taken place in April 1936 in Barcelona, with Krasner and the Pau Casals Orchestra, Hermann Scherchen conducting. Berg's colleague Anton Webern, the other member of the Second Viennese School along with Arnold Schönberg, had been scheduled to lead the orchestra, but he withdrew. Some sources say he was sick, others that he was overcome with emotion at the loss of Berg. But Anthony Pople, author of a book on the concerto, says that the truth was more nuanced:

Webern’s emotional involvement with Berg's last score undermined the rehearsals from the start ... he found it impossible to communicate his precise wishes to the musicians, and became nervous and angry. After the third and final rehearsal he locked himself in his hotel room, saying that the performance could not take place.

Finally he did relinquish the score, and Scherchen took over the premiere, successfully.

Louis Krasner
The concerto's second performance, in London on May 1, 1936 with the BBC Symphony before an invited audience with Webern conducting, was smoother. Pople wrote, "Webern redeemed himself by his musicianship: according to Krasner, 'Webern was the inspirational Master on the conductor’s podium, the orchestra was at one with him and the performance became a Devotion for all.'"

Fortunately, this performance was recorded on acetate discs for Krasner. Those discs are the source of a transfer that was issued many years ago . Unfortunately, that recording is ill-balanced, off pitch and very noisy. My friend David Federman asked if I could ameliorate these problems, which I have tried to do, with some success. Some background noise remains, but the balance is much better and I believe the pitch is correct.

As I wrote in my previous post: "Berg had some difficulty writing [the work], but soon, grieving over the loss of a family friend, young Manon Gropius, the daughter of Walter Gropius and Alma Mahler, he wrote his famous concerto, which he dedicated to 'Dem Andenken eines Engels' ('The Memory of an Angel')." It was to become one of the defining works of the 20th century.

Manon Gropius
Addendum: here is David's eloquent response to this post:

You've extracted the best sonics from this extraordinary performance that I will ever hear. I had just listened to a live performance of the concerto with Klaus Tennstedt conducting the New York Philharmonic with Shlomo Mintz, which is the most analytic and clearly detailed performance I have ever heard. Indeed, he treats it as a tone poem rather than concerto. But Krasner is a far, far superior soloist and makes this the best playing of the work from a soloist standpoint I have ever heard. However, Tennstedt's interpretation is revelatory, especially in the last part where he makes it clear that the work is a collaboration between Bach and Berg. Every note refers to that chorale. But there is far greater drama to Webern's performance. Indeed, the emotional intensity is gripping, even overwhelming at times. To Webern, this is, in essence, a tragic work. Soloist, conductor and orchestra are in total synch. The transition into the chorale is exquisite. Those woodwinds sound like an organ. And Webern never lets us forget Bach's presence, even when Berg has his great outburst of grief. But the darkness of that moment never lifts under Webern's baton. I don't hear Krasner reach for the high notes Berg wrote at the end. I wonder if he just couldn't play them or he and Webern decided to let the orchestra say the Amen. In any case, this performance reminds me I am listening to a work by the writer of "Lulu." Thanks again for supplying it. It needs to be heard and cherished.