A set like this reveals tellingly the beneficial side of the period-performance movement. There are things that Riccardo Chailly does that likely never would have occurred to him, especially with this orchestra, absent current research into early 19th-century sonority and practice, particularly regarding tempo. I’m thinking of the scherzo of the Fifth, quicker than usual and wholly convincing, or the slow movements of the Sixth and Ninth symphonies, which flow with expressive purpose but never sound rushed (unlike many actual period-instrument versions). The Allegretto of the Seventh also really lives up to its designation, but then, so did Szell’s.
On the other hand, there are some “traditional” touches that also make a lot of sense, most obviously, for example, Chailly’s excellent decision to let the trumpet play the entire main theme in the coda of the Eroica’s first movement (but he leaves the bassoons alone, as written, in the Fifth’s first-movement recapitulation). In other words, Chailly, like Vänskä, takes what he needs from modern scholarship and assembles a distinctive interpretive take on this music. The result is brilliant, personal, and consistently convincing.
The one huge advantage that Chailly enjoys over any period-instrument performance, however, is the playing of Leipzig’s Gewandhaus Orchestra. Obviously, these folks know their Beethoven, but more to the point, it’s ludicrous in the face of playing of this quality to suggest that any period-performance group, using modern copies of old instruments, can approach the ensemble quality on display here. Consider the bite and weight of the strings at the start of the Coriolan Overture, or in the trio of the Fifth’s scherzo. You also won’t find any band of “authentic” instruments with woodwinds whose parts tell with such clarity or personality. Check out the numerous solos in the “Pastoral”, or the squealing piccolo atop the tuttis in the finale of the Fifth. The sheer excitement that Chailly generates in the virtuosic finale of the Eighth, or the coda of the same movement in the “Eroica”, has to be heard to be believed. Really, there’s no comparison.
More to the point, this telling admixture of traditional and novel gives Beethoven’s music a range of expression and bigness of vision that period-performance purists can’t hope to match. The Ninth really is the cosmic experience that it ought to be, aided by a fine lineup of soloists and a magnificent, large chorus. Is it all equally fine? Well, everyone will have their own preferences. I’d prefer a slower tempo for the tenor solo march in the Ninth’s finale, and there are one or two other moments that might raise an eyebrow, but in the face of such general excellence they really don’t matter. This is great Beethoven.
Finally, a consumer note. Universal was not providing promotional copies of this set to critics (at least, not to those they consider less important) because of the alleged cost of the packaging. So I purchased my set at full price. What you get is a slipcase with five CDs bound into a hard-backed booklet. It’s a nice design, but you can download the entire set for about two-thirds to a half the price, and that might well be a better option for most listeners. Certainly it’s pointless to pay markedly extra for cardboard, plastic, and a useless essay on Beethoven, Chailly, and the Gewandhaus. Either way, the sound is excellent.
