In Beethoven’s Ninth symphony, how
Are we still arguing about when to clap?
Beethoven says it’s OK to clap between movements. In fact, he’d have been offended if audiences didn’t — listeners were much rowdier in ye olde classical music times, applauding and booing alike withaplomb during concerts.
Today, inter-movement applause has become something of a litmus test, where the classical “in-crowd” rolls their eyes at the neophytes who don’t know how rude it is to express honest-to-God appreciation for what they’ve just heard. It surfaces in the discourse from time to time as a metaphor for classical music’s elitism, most recently in Dallas where the local critic and the orchestra’s CEO traded arguments in the press earlier this year. (How civilized.)
At Friday’s Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra concert at Heinz Hall, a few unenlightened souls dared to applaud between the movements of Beethoven’s hallowed Ninth symphony, which is celebrating its 200th anniversary in May. “Ode to Joy,” indeed.
Heads swiveled. Eyebrows raised. A hush quickly fell.
Give me a break. Back in 2018, Pittsburgh’s music director Manfred Honeck himself told me: “If it’s really hot music, how can you keep it back? People should react to what they hear onstage. You should let it go. Let it happen.”
Pretty much every conductor I’ve ever talked to has said something similar — the truth is that the silence between movements tradition emerged in the 20th century thanks to some overzealous conductors exerting their will on the concert hall. It’s stifling and unnecessary.
Bottom (line) of the Ninth
Friday’s was a fiery take on the Ninth, with the orchestra, vocal soloists and the Mendelssohn Choir of Pittsburgh racing through Beethoven’s melodiesat breakneck speeds. Different recordings and performances of this work vary intempo quite wildly. This is a little surprising, given that Beethoven actually marked exact speeds in the original score.
(Again, some conductors just know best, it seems.)
The speed occasionally interferes with the work’s integrity. Strings were a little more feathery than exact in the second movement, and parts of the finale threatened to pull apart and crash. Brass were predictably overzealous here, as well, nearly covering the choir and the rest of the orchestra.
The overall effect was still magnificent — the Pittsburgh Symphony’s is a spectacular first live Beethoven nine, and the hall was notably more packed than usual. Even in this time of inconsistent audiences, the Ninth still sells, it seems.
Meanwhile, 200 years later...
The concert opened with music by the Austrian composer Bruckner — a couple of brief choir works and an orchestral arrangement of a movement from a string quintet by Mr. Honeck — and a brand new work by Canadian composerSamy Moussa.
Moussa’s work was boldly cinematic straightforward, a departure from some of the more “soundscapey” compositions the orchestra has been premiering lately.
A chord progression began in the low winds and brass, clarinet singing a slow melody above, before strings entered with a detached texture. These elements passed through different sections of the ensemble, pulling different colors and moods from the musicians and following an arc, growing in optimism throughout.
Frankly, the piece deserved a better performance than it received. The orchestra wasn’t locked in rhythmically or in terms of intonation, marring the work’s effect. They’ve got another chance to clean it up this weekend.
My dog ate it
Clapping between movements and dress codes and
knowing some of the classical jargon was a sign of education and status at one time in the 20th century. Exclusivity was selling point. Elitism was currency.
Now, classical organizations have swung the opposite direction, removing as many of these “barriers” to enjoying performances as possible. You’re as likely to encounter someone in jeans as in a suit now.
This isn’t a bad thing. Everyone should feel welcome at concerts without needing to do “homework” on the customs or background of the music.
That said, I wonder whether assimilating into
some of the traditions of the concert hall could help preserve the distinctiveness of the experience. There’s nothing like seeing an orchestra live, the noise, the precision, the intensity, the passion. Honoring some of the traditions and being open to learning something about the art form’s history can help form an emotional connection with the music onstage, whether it’s someone’s first concert or their thousandth.
Not all traditions deserve applause.