≈ 2 hours · With intermission
Last updated: September 11, 2018
Reflection
The Beethoven symphonies are central to the life of musicians and audiences. Over the course of these nine masterpieces, Beethoven evolved not just his own music, but revolutionized all of music in a way and at a pace hitherto unprecedented. From the classical strains of his first to the universal themes of his last, there is not a single note out of place, not a single bar wasted, not a single idea unexplored. He challenges the orchestra to be its best. He demands rigour and attention of performers and listeners alike. And why? In order to express, through the abstract language of music, the most fundamental and tangible shared emotions of humankind. Joy, passion, warmth, mourning, hope, loss, melancholy, peace, victory, struggle, solidarity, desperation, reverence, simplicity... I cannot think of a state of mind that is not in one way or another expressed through this music.
As we begin our 50th anniversary season, we also begin our next artistic chapter in a reinvigorated Southam Hall with its glorious new shell and acoustic. I can conceive of no better way to explore every inch of this new space than with a fresh take on this most complete and all-encompassing of symphonic cycles. It is my great privilege to share this new stage with the incomparable musicians of the National Arts Centre Orchestra, who will interpret and form every note of this cycle with passion, detail, verve and love. And it is our great pleasure to share this musical Everest, this cornerstone of artistic output, with you, our dear audience. For 50 years, you have listened and responded. For 50 years, you have been instrumental in thousands of performances in this space. We are deeply grateful to you for that. Here’s to the new season, to the new hall and to a bright future for this wonderful, wonderful orchestra!
Repertoire
Symphony No. 4 in B-flat major, Op. 60
“A slender Grecian maiden between two Norse giants” is Robert Schumann’s oft-quoted description of Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony. It was the Fourth’s accident of history that placed it between those towering creations, the Third (Eroica) and Fifth Symphonies, and there is no denying that the Fourth exists on a somewhat less exalted plane than its neighbours. But there are different kinds of greatness, and in performance the Fourth invariably stimulates the degree of aesthetic satisfaction and listening pleasure reserved for what we call “masterpieces.” It may lack the implicit theme of grandiose, heroic struggle that characterizes the Third and Fifth Symphonies, but as David Cairns writes “for all its lack of “great issues’, the Fourth contains as much drama as do the symphonies on either side… a conflict and eventual reconciliation between, on the one hand, broad lyricism and the long singing line, and, on the other, rhythmic insistence, violent accents and syncopation. In energy, the Fourth is inferior to none.”
The first performance, a private one, took place in the Viennese town house of Prince Lobkowitz on March 15, 1807, with Beethoven conducting.
The Fourth is Beethoven’s only symphony for which we have no surviving sketchbook to reveal the composer’s developing compositional process. This represents a particularly frustrating loss, since the perceptive listener can find so many elements in common with the Fifth Symphony: the very opening of the Fourth outlines softly and mysteriously the identical melodic shape of the famous “Da-Da-Da-DAH; Da-Da-Da-DAH” of the Fifth; the long, slow crescendo over a single chord that brings the Fifth’s third movement into the finale finds its counterpart in the Fourth Symphony’s first movement just prior to the recapitulation; virtuosic use of the lower instruments of the orchestra; the persistent use of the “Fate” motif throughout; and other features link the two symphonies.
The symphony’s long, dark, mysterious opening offers no clue to the buoyancy, joy and ebullience that otherwise mark the work. When the main Allegro section finally arrives, the effect is not unlike that of the emergence from a tunnel, from darkness into light. The first theme is announced immediately in the violins, a theme that will by turns sound airy and graceful or robust and sturdy, depending on the orchestration. The second theme shows Beethoven at his most playful: an idea passes through the bassoon, then the oboe, and finally the flute before finding its lyrical conclusion in the violins. The clarinet, neglected in this passage, gets to start the closing theme – a lyrical duet-dialogue with bassoon. The development and recapitulation are conventionally laid out.
Over a rhythmic pattern that pervades much of the movement, the ravishing principal theme of the Adagio unfolds with infinite grace and rarefied beauty. It is the kind of line, so simple yet so exquisite, that brings to mind the themes of Mozartian slow movements. Berlioz called it “angelic and of irresistible tenderness.” An equally haunting spell is woven by the solo clarinet in the second theme as the line rises and falls in gentle caresses. Yet, for all its lyricism, moments of insistent rhythmic repetition remind us that the dramatic tension of this music lies largely in the very contrast of those two elements, melody and rhythm.
Beethoven called the bumptious, frolicsome third movement a menuetto, but it is a scherzo in all but name. The whiplash alternations of loud and soft, the stabbing accents, the rapid tempo and motoric energy all point to a Beethoven scherzo. Actually, it is a double scherzo, for the contrasting, quaintly rustic Trio section, featuring woodwind choir, occurs twice, resulting in the basic form of scherzo-trio-scherzo-trio-scherzo. In Beethoven’s typically rough good humour, the final repetition of the scherzo is abruptly truncated by a brief, three-bar call from the horns that, as one writer (Donald Francis Tovey) put it, “blow the whole movement away.”
The finale is a wonderful mix of quicksilver, lightning exuberance, coiled energy and perpetual motion. In the opening theme, moto perpetuo sixteenth notes alternate with elegant legato phrases, and throughout there is a systematic contrast between delicate, airy pianissimo and mock-furious fortissimo. Grand orchestral climaxes are built up, only to dissolve in wisps of elusive melody. With a final, masterful gesture, Beethoven reconciles the two conflicting principles of the symphony – rhythm and melody become one.
The NAC Orchestra played Beethoven’s Symphony No. 4 for the first time in 1969, under the direction of Mario Bernardi, and most recently in 2017 led by Christian Zacharias. Victor Feldbrill, Pinchas Zukerman, Roberto Minczuk and Thomas Søndergård are among the other conductors who have led performances of this work over the years.
By Robert Markow
Symphony No. 6 in F major, Op. 68, “Pastoral”
The dividing line between program music and absolute music is a thin one, but Beethoven proved himself a master of both in his Sixth Symphony. Although the work has been produced with scenery, with characters who move about on stage, and as part of the cinema classic Fantasia, Beethoven took care to advise that the symphony is “more an expression of feeling than painting.” Each listener should let his imagination work its own spell. After all, wrote Beethoven, “composing is thinking in sounds.” Hence, he continues, the Pastoral Symphony is “no picture, but something in which the emotions aroused by the pleasures of the country are expressed, or something in which some feelings of country life are set forth.”
Beethoven’s own love for the pleasures of the country are well-known. In a life of almost constant turmoil, anxiety and stormy relationships, the periods he spent in the woods outside Vienna offered his tortured soul precious solace and peace of mind. To quote the composer again: “How glad I am to be able to roam in wood and thicket, among the trees and flowers and rocks. No one can love the country as I do… My bad hearing does not trouble me here.… In the woods there is enchantment which expresses all things.”
The idea of depicting nature in tone was not new with Beethoven, of course. Many composers both before and especially after him were inspired to create some of their best music in such fashion, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons being one of the most popular examples. The repertoire of Pastoral Symphonies alone is quite impressive, including one by Vaughan Williams (No. 3), Wilfred Josephs (No. 5), Gretchaninov (No. 2), Glazunov (No. 7) and Don Freund. Although not a symphony in the Beethovenian sense, one of the numbers in Handel’s Messiah is entitled “Sinfonia pastorale.”
The Pastoral Symphony received its first performance in Vienna as part of that incredible marathon concert of December 22, 1808 at the Theater an der Wien, an all-Beethoven concert that also included the Fifth Symphony, Fourth Piano Concerto, Choral Fantasy and some vocal and choral music. It is dedicated to two of Beethoven’s most ardent patrons, Prince Lobkowitz and Count Razumovsky.
The symphony’s opening places us immediately in relaxed, beatific surroundings. The day is sunny, warm and abounding in nature’s fragrances and gentle breezes. But aside from conjuring nature imagery, the music is remarkable for its motivic writing – virtually the entire movement is built from tiny musical cells found in the first two bars. Phrases and sentences are often formed from these motivic ideas repeated again and again. “Fragments keep repeating themselves in a sort of naive joy at their own beauty and charm, with subtle variations of tonality and instrumental colour, like the play of light and shade in nature itself,” writes Edward Downes.
The second movement invites contemplation. To Donald Francis Tovey, this is “a slow movement in full sonata form which at every point asserts its deliberate intention to be lazy and to say whatever occurs to it twice in succession, and which in doing so never loses flow or falls out of proportion. The brook goes on forever; the importance of that fact lies in its effect upon the poetic mind of the listener basking in the sun on its banks.” Near the end of the movement we hear instrumental effects simulating the calls of the nightingale (flute), quail (oboe) and cuckoo (clarinet).
The Sixth is the only symphony in which Beethoven departed from the traditional four-movement format. The remaining three movements are played without interruption. Rough, peasant merry-making and dancing are portrayed, but the boisterous festivities suddenly stop when intimations of an approaching storm are heard. There is not much time to take cover; a few isolated raindrops fall, and then the heavens burst open. Storms have appeared frequently in musical compositions (in Verdi’s Otello and Rigoletto, Wagner’s Flying Dutchman, Strauss’s Alpine Symphony, Berlioz’ “Royal Hunt and Storm” from The Trojans, etc.), but few have surpassed Beethoven’s in power and fury. Timpani, piccolo and trombones, all hitherto silent in the symphony, now make their entrances.
With the tempest over, a shepherd’s pipe is heard in a song of thanksgiving for the renewed freshness and beauty of nature. Timpani and piccolo withdraw, but the trombones, whose sonority was traditionally associated with sacred music until well after Beethoven’s era, are retained. The joyous hymn is taken up by the full orchestra as if, to quote Edward Downes again, “in thanks to some pantheistic god, to Nature, to the sun, to whatever beneficent power one can perceive in a universe that seemed as dark and terrifyingly irrational in Beethoven’s day as it can in ours. That a man of sorrows and self-centred miseries like Beethoven could glimpse such glory and, by the incomparable alchemy of his art, lift us to share his vision – even if only for a few moments – is a miracle that remains as fresh as tomorrow’s sunrise.”
In 1973, Mario Bernardi was on the podium for the NAC Orchestra’s first performance of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony, and the ensemble’s most recent interpretation of the Symphony took place in 2015 under the direction of Matthias Pintscher.
By Robert Markow
Artists
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“A natural communicator, both on and off the podium” (The Telegraph), Alexander Shelley performs across six continents with the world’s finest orchestras and soloists.
With a conducting technique described as “immaculate” (Yorkshire Post) and a “precision, distinction and beauty of gesture not seen since Lorin Maazel” (Le Devoir), Shelley is known for the clarity and integrity of his interpretations and the creativity and vision of his programming. To date, he has spearheaded over 40 major world premieres, highly praised cycles of Beethoven, Schumann and Brahms symphonies, operas, ballets, and innovative multi-media productions.
Since 2015, he has served as Music Director of Canada’s National Arts Centre Orchestra and Principal Associate Conductor of London’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. In April 2023, he was appointed Artistic and Music Director of Artis–Naples in Florida, providing artistic leadership for the Naples Philharmonic and the entire multidisciplinary arts organization. The 2024-2025 season is Shelley’s inaugural season in this position.
Additional 2024-2025 season highlights include performances with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, the Colorado Symphony, the Warsaw Philharmonic, the Seattle Symphony, the Chicago Civic Orchestra, and the National Symphony of Ireland. Shelley is a regular guest with some of the finest orchestras of Europe, the Americas, Asia and Australasia, including Leipzig’s Gewandhaus Orchestra, the Konzerthausorchester Berlin, the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, the Helsinki, Hong Kong, Luxembourg, Malaysian, Oslo, Rotterdam and Stockholm philharmonic orchestras and the Sao Paulo, Houston, Seattle, Baltimore, Indianapolis, Montreal, Toronto, Munich, Singapore, Melbourne, Sydney and New Zealand symphony orchestras.
In September 2015, Shelley succeeded Pinchas Zukerman as Music Director of Canada’s National Arts Centre Orchestra, the youngest in its history. The ensemble has since been praised as “an orchestra transformed ... hungry, bold, and unleashed” (Ottawa Citizen), and his programming is credited for turning the orchestra “almost overnight ... into one of the more audacious orchestras in North America” (Maclean’s). Together, they have undertaken major tours of Canada, Europe, and Carnegie Hall, where they premiered Philip Glass’s Symphony No. 13.
They have commissioned ground-breaking projects such as Life Reflected and Encount3rs, released multiple JUNO-nominated albums and, most recently, responded to the pandemic and social justice issues of the era with the NACO Live and Undisrupted video series.
In August 2017, Shelley concluded his eight-year tenure as Chief Conductor of the Nurnberger Symphoniker, a period hailed by press and audiences alike as a golden era for the orchestra.
Shelley’s operatic engagements have included The Merry Widow and Gounod’s Romeo and Juliet (Royal Danish Opera), La bohème (Opera Lyra/National Arts Centre), Louis Riel (Canadian Opera Company/National Arts Centre), lolanta (Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen), Così fan tutte (Opera National de Montpellier), The Marriage of Figaro (Opera North), Tosca (Innsbruck), and both Le nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni in semi-staged productions at the NAC.
Winner of the ECHO Music Prize and the Deutsche Grunderpreis, Shelley was conferred with the Cross of the Federal Order of Merit by German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier in April 2023 in recognition of his services to music and culture.
Through his work as Founder and Artistic Director of the Schumann Camerata and their pioneering “440Hz” series in Dusseldorf, as founding Artistic Director of the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen’s “Zukunftslabor” and through his regular tours leading Germany’s National Youth Orchestra, inspiring future generations of classical musicians and listeners has always been central to Shelley’s work.
He regularly gives informed and passionate pre- and post-concert talks on his programs, as well as numerous interviews and podcasts on the role of classical music in society. In Nuremberg alone, over nine years, he hosted over half a million people at the annual Klassik Open Air concert, Europe’s largest classical music event.
Born in London in October 1979 to celebrated concert pianists, Shelley studied cello and conducting in Germany and first gained widespread attention when he was unanimously awarded first prize at the 2005 Leeds Conductors’ Competition, with the press describing him as “the most exciting and gifted young conductor to have taken this highly prestigious award.”
The Music Director role is supported by Elinor Gill Ratcliffe, C.M., ONL, LL.D. (hc).
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