All-time master bids a beautiful farewell to his British fans
Prom 60 Vienna Philharmonic/ Haitink/ax Royal Albert Hall, SW7 ★★★★★
The programme notes for Tuesday night’s Prom stated that following his performances this month, Bernard Haitink would be taking a sabbatical. But Haitink is 90 (and, fittingly, this was his 90th Prom), and those who know the self-effacing Dutchman, one of the world’s greatest living conductors, will realise this sabbatical is a euphemism for a final farewell. Haitink is first and foremost a musician, and you can’t help feeling that any grand gestures, any sense of a long goodbye, is anathema to him.
So if Haitink refused to play the great showman, the audience made up for it by cheering, stomping and rising to their feet. I don’t think I have ever seen such a unified display of admiration at the Royal Albert Hall. Of course, Haitink gestured to us to be silent, to let the music speak for itself.
The concert opened with Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No 4
– outwardly leisurely in places but requiring expert control. Polish pianist Emanuel Ax (a late replacement for the ailing Murray Perahia) rose to the challenge, both harnessing this complex work and allowing notes to tumble out as profound but disparate thoughts. Ax worked seamlessly with Haitink, and the conductor seemed to muster all his energy to deliver a finale that was lyrical, dramatic and, most noticeably, effortless.
The second half ought to have posed more of a problem. Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony was once listed as one of the most boring pieces of music in the classical repertoire, with a critic dismissing it as descending into “plinky plonky”. Certainly, the elegiac second movement can linger for too
long – but if anyone could save it, it was Haitink. He first got me into Bruckner when I saw him conduct the Eighth three years ago with Herculean strength, marshalling his players into creating a piece of tension and reconciliation that made my spirit soar.
The Seventh, despite moments of sheer magisterial beauty, can often feel a bit leaden, with a tendency to get lost in its own expansiveness. Here, Haitink managed to conjure something urgent, while retaining a strong sense of grandeur.
Above all, what Haitink gave us was clarity, and you could hear the fine detail from every section – with a special mention to the tubas of the Vienna Philharmonic who were commanding, even defiant in their intonation. The sudden cymbal clash in the Adagio can sometimes sound like melodramatic nonsense, but here it felt completely natural, as if Haitink had been guiding us towards this moment all along. Best of all was the tricky, brief fourth movement, which moved towards a thrilling coda where suddenly, finally, conductor and orchestra gave way to a groundswell of emotion.
Despite the intensity of sound, all of this was achieved with the minimum amount of fuss. Haitink’s movements are minimal, and on the podium he was like a puppet master, obtaining maximum results while seemingly doing very little.
Haitink first appeared at the Proms in 1966 in which he performed the same symphony. Therefore, you might have expected his final bow to have prompted a few words, but no, he simply stood gazing out at the audience with a benign half smile.
“Every conductor has a sell-by date,” he said a few years ago. In general, I would agree, but judging by this vivid, joyful concert, I would say that Haitink is the exception. If only it were just a sabbatical.