Concert Review: Into the Abyss, With a Return Ticket

The Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique goes beyond the Fantastique.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Historian at work: Sir John Eliot Gardiner leading the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique.
Photo from the official website of The Monteverdi Choir © 2018 SDG

The Symphonie-fantastique, written in 1830 by Hector Berlioz, is in some ways a victim of its own success.

It is programmed somewhere every season, allowing a large symphony orchestra to wow its faithful subscribers with Berlioz' five-movement journey into phantasmagoric landscapes. It is literally an orchestral head trip: from the passions and dreams of a young man to two nightmare movements that are (both) arguably among the greatest tour de force pieces to be written in the 19th century. On Monday night, Sir John Eliot Gardiner and the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique put this much-loved war-horse work in context, programming it alongside its  little-known sequel Lélio for their second concert this week at Carnegie Hall.

Hold up a minute, Mr. Superconductor. There's...a sequel?

Concert Review: The Most Exquisite Claudio

John Eliot Gardiner conducts Monteverdi at Carnegie Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Photo of Sir John Eliot Gardiner © 2014 by James Cheadle Low.
Painting of Claudio Monteverdi by Bernardo Tozzi circa 1640. Photo alteration by the author.

Sir John Eliot Gardiner and the Monteverdi Choir rose to prominence fifty years ago with a concert of Monteverdi's Vespri della Beata Vergine at Cambridge. Last week, conductor and choir celebrated that anniversary at Carnegie Hall with two concerts. These performances, featuring Monteverdi's Vespers on Thursday and the opera L'Orfeo on Friday, were the culmination of Carnegie's month-long Before Bach festival. They mark a half century at the vanguard of the historically informed performance movement.

Brass Tacks: Historically Informed Performance

So what do they mean by "original instruments?"
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Natural horns (with replaceable "crooks" instead of valves)
are a key part of  historically informed performance.

The creation and composition of what we call "classical" music has gone on for half a millennium. In that time, both the music and the instruments it is played on have changed considerably. Iron-framed concert grand pianos, valved trumpets, metal flutes--all of these are comparitively recent inventions.


In 1954, a movement began in Europe encouraging the exploration and performance of Bach cantatas on "historically informed" instruments: that is, original or replica instruments of the 18th century and earlier. The idea was to recreate the sound of a a given piece of music at the time that it was written. The success of these initial Bach performances led to a whole slew of new baroque-style orchestras being formed.

It was the era of the big classical music label. Many of these new ensembles were given recording contracts, and the world soon saw an explosion of interest in baroque and Renaissance music. A handful of ittle known musicians: Nikolaus Harnoncourt, John Eliot Gardiner, Christopher Hogwood, Roger Norrington and William Christie became star conductors.

"Historically Informed Performance" (as it has come to be called) incorporates so-called "original" instruments. Wooden flutes replace metal ones. Oboes and bassoons have simplified key mechanisms. Keyboard soloists favor wood-framed, sometimes pedal-less "fortepianos" instead of the modern concert grand.

Concert Review: Owning Beethoven

The Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique at Carnegie Hall.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

Thursday night at Carnegie Hall featured the second of two concerts by the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique. For the past two decades, this British ensemble has specialized in playing Beethoven, using only instruments from the composer's lifetime.

The concert featured Beethoven's Third (Eroica) and Fourth Symphonies, under the baton of Orchestre founder and period performance specialist Sir John Eliot Gardiner. The show opened with the overture to The Creatures of Prometheus, the opener of the composer's lone ballet score. It was played as a vigorous, spicy amuse-bouche, setting the table for the meal to come.

Although the program placed the Fourth before the intermission, the first symphony played was the Eroica. Its sudden start, with two sharp raps on the timpani caught the audience off-balance. Occasionally the sound was marred by an overtaxed violin or a balky horn, but the musicians' passion and Beethoven's genius overcame these obstacles to enjoyment.

In the first movement, Sir John Eliot delved deeply into the inner workings of Beethoven's innovative score. The famed funeral march carried extra weight when played by the raucous slide trumpets and natural horns. A chipper solo on the principal oboe led off the Scherzo, the rumbustuous dance movement, and another of Beethoven's innovations.

The last-minute switch of the Third and Fourth on the program might have something to do with the Prometheus overture. Beethoven took the principal theme for the finale of the Eroica from the concluding part of that ballet. He developed this simple theme into a bewildering set of variations, including a colossal fugue. The O.R.R. responded to this superb material, lending grace and lift to the variations, bringing the whole piece home with its powerful final chords.

The Fourth is one of the less frequently played Beethoven symphonies. It is usually relegated to the position of curtain-raiser, either to one of its more famous brethren or some grandiose work by another composer. By moving it to the second half of the evening, Sir John Eliot made the symphony stand on its own merits. The slow, dramatic introduction led into a whirling Allegro. This dancing, fast movement had an earthy, organic feel.

The slow movement was played with delicacy. The muscular third movement, a tipsy Scherzo, might be the sound of Austrian rustics, stopping at the local heurige for a few glasses of spring wine, probably getting ready for the third movement of the Pastoral It led directly into the wild celebrations of the finale, played with enthusiasm and power despite an occasional squall from the horns.