Sibelius;Jean Syms 1/2/5/7

When these majestic, elemental performances were issued on CD two decades ago by Deutsche Grammophone, the critics had a field day. "Self-indulgent" they cried. Not up to the standard set by Bernstein's earlier New York Philharmonic recordings of the Sibelius Symphonies, and clear evidence of the old man's failing powers.

Listening to them again now--while seeing the maestro in action--is an exhilarating experience. Lenny's interpretations are of course larger than life and totally subjective. Slows are exceptionally slow, but never ponderous or static. The allegros fly like the wind--so brisk that even the legendary Vienna Philharmonic has a difficult time keeping up with their leader.

Also much in evidence is Bernstein's uncanny ability to carry a musical line across vast silences, especially in Symphony 2, where Sibelius adds fermatas to the longest rests. How Bernstein manages such wizardry is still beyond me, even after watching these videos with the utmost care. But that's hardly the only magic on display here. From the hushed mystery of the opening bars of First to the searing dissonance of the winds in the middle movement of the Fifth, to the ecstatic, nearly overwhelming climax at the end of the Seventh, Bernstein consistently rivets our attention.

Just as mesmerizing is the opportunity to watch Bernstein at work. He conducts with his eyes nearly as much as with his hands, and his facial expressions further help convey the meaning of the music to the players. Here he gently reminds the violins to use more bow; there he slashes the air violently with his baton--and is visibly moved by the ensemble's hair-trigger response. He cajoles, coaxes, and in the climactic moments leaps nimbly into the air. Some critics still abhor Bernstein's podium antics, but I find that they invariably enhance and intensify his interpretation of the music.

The playing of the Vienna Philharmonic under Bernstein is as close to perfection as we are ever likely to hear on this earth. The sound on these Unitel DVDs is exceptionally vivid and richly detailed. The video editing is occasionally distracting as we jump across the stage from one solo instrument to another, sometimes during a single bar of music. For the most part, however, producer Humphrey Burton draws our attention to the most interesting musical effects and allows the camera to linger lovingly on his photogenic maestro.

If you love the Sibelius symphonies, by all means seek out the more sedate and orderly complete CD sets by John Barbirolli or Colin Davis. But don't miss these highly personal, life-affirming, and life-changing DVDs. After listening to Bernstein, you'll never quite hear this music the same way again.

First, let me admit I have only recently received this set and had time to review only Symphonies #1, #2, and #5.

First: the competition:

I have never understood the detractors of Karajan vis a vis Sibelius. His monolithic performances seem to summon up the very atmosphere of the north. Vanska's more intimate approach conjures its own poetry and seems equally appropriate. Davis offers something in between. Ashkenazy, on the other hand, lights the ice on fire. For a newcomer to Sibelius, I'd start with his Decca set.

Now to Bernstein:

Symphony Number One is quite simply superb. This is an uncontroversial interpretation which finds Bernstein at his most concentrated. I'm tempted to say this is the finest thing I've ever seen him do. The entire work seems to give birth to itself before our eyes and ears in the most ideal manner imaginable. There is nothing exaggerated, even at the height of intensities that are encountered here. Bernstein was many things at many times, but never before have I been compelled to describe what is in evidence here by one word: noble. But nobility there is here in spades.

Symphony Number two, too, exudes nobility. But here there is also something else: eccentricity.

What Bernstein does in this fascinating performances is break the music down into studied, yet emotionally charged atoms. I suppose it could be argued that he is fighting against Sibelius' own instincts towards greater and greater unity. I've never heard so much silence offered between these phrases. And frankly, there are moments when the connections almost are lost. But, for every near miss, there is an even larger hit-- for Bernstein's vision is never hard to perceive. This is paradoxical Sibelius: big band, but stripped down. One is tempted to say de-constructed, but it is never cold, calculated, or ironic. Bernstein seems to be courting the ghosts of Furtwangler or Klemperer-- without ever losing track of his own musical soul.

Fascinating, yes, not always enrapturing, but finally, most compelling stuff.

Oh, what's with the Vienna crowd-- so many of them walking out during the ovation? Were they sticking their noses up? Or-- like L.A. folks-- did they want to be the first out of the parking garage? Makes one remember that Vienna was the city that snubbed Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert. So much for Austria as the land of universal musical enlightenment!

(They stay in their seats after Number One, though, which was recorded later. Maybe by then they were learning to appreciate the gift of Bernstein-- which was about to leave the Grosser Musikvereinsalle of the World, forever...ewig...ewig....)

Finally: Symphony #5. This interpretation is closer to that of #2 than #1. Bernstein sets a slow but inexorable pace and reveals all the subtleties that the Vienna players can bring out. All the interplay between woodwinds and bass fiddles stands out in brilliant relief. Of course this symphony calls for brass and here we get astonishing transitions as these rays of sunlight break through the shifting weather of the middle sections.

Does the finale work? Up to a point. The sense of holding back achieved by Bernstein's hypnotic pacing builds a remarkable aura that feels as much human invention as primal creation (the music has never sounded as "composed"). Those ultimate "exposed" blasts are here reduced to "bursts," eruptions in the longest rings of silence I've heard attempted with this, one of the most audacious of all endings. For my taste, I want the primordial eruption here-- and Bernstein doesn't give it to you. There's a touch too much of virtuosity in his conception. But what virtuosity!

There are not many conductors, past or present, who expended so much sheer physical and kinetic energy on the podium as Leonard Bernstein and, at the same time, had an equally powerful aura for projecting a compelling interpretation both for the collaborating musicians and for the audience. There are even fewer conductors who can convince us of the greatness of their conception of a given work--even if our own conception is quite different. Leonard Bernstein was one of the few. I'll put my cards on the table. My own conception of the Sibelius symphonies is lean and moderately fast, with sharp contours and edges, giving proper weight to the silence between the notes, never bombastic (Vänskä, Kamu and Berglund are among my top choices, Bernstein's earlier NY set and the glib Karajan never were). Regardless of my interpretive preferences, I found myself spellbound by these recordings. The (stereo) sound is good, the video much better than acceptable (perhaps re-mastered?), only a bit gritty in the 5th. Humphrey Burton's direction is masterful as ever. But much of the focus is on the maestro, approaching the end of his life (he died in 1990, the recordings were made during live performances in 1986, 1987, 1988 and 1990) in the autumnal days of his love affair with the Wiener Philharmoniker who play for him like angels (in an all-male heaven!), each and every one, as if they felt that the days of their collaboration with Bernstein were numbered. Yes, there are a few glitches, thankfully not edited, and they make the experience more real and human. As we know from Bernstein's valedictory late productions, the tempi are slow, every note is savored, every emotion painfully or joyfully wrung from the score, and everything is bigger than life. The 1st comes in at ca. 43:00, the 2nd at 53:00, the 5th at ca. 37:00 and the 7th at ca. 25:00: these are leisurely tempi indeed. Strangely, when listening--and watching the interplay between Lenny and his musicians--I was not aware of an inordinate passage of time. Never checked my watch or the timing LED on my player. You may find the respective apotheosis at the 2nd's and the 5th's end overdone (note the enormous, sustained effort of the Vienna brass players!), you may consider some other passages overwrought. But, within the context of the whole, it all seems to make sense. These are deeply felt and moving readings, documents of a bygone era of music making, of a charismatic presence on the podium who mesmerized musicians and audience alike. Most likely, they will not evict your favorite Sibelius recordings from the shelf, but they'll take a place of honor next to them.

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