Playing Beethoven symphonies is what a symphony orchestra really ought to be doing most of the time. The New York Philharmonic performed Beethoven’s Seventh and Eighth Symphonies last week under American-born Swedish conductor Herbert Blomstedt. Blomstedt is an emeritus of the Swedish and Danish National Symphony Orchestras and the Oslo Philharmonic, and was a student of Leonard Bernstein. He is now 90 years old and his tailcoat hangs somewhat loosely on his shoulders, but he looks and strides to the podium as though he were at least twenty years younger. His gestures of arms and torso—he seemed to build up energy and then release it with a sudden swing one way, then the other—gave the impression of a grand old orator spellbinding an audience.
The program was wisely arranged to begin with the compact and playful Eighth Symphony and continue to the grander and more intense Seventh. The string section developed a broad and somewhat ponderous tone that managed to overshadow even the brass, despite the efforts of a valiant French horn. The winds were almost completely swallowed up, a special shame in the Eighth Symphony where they provide most of the humor—particularly in the second movement, which Beethoven wrote to celebrate the invention of the metronome. The continual “tick-tock” effect should romp forward happily and the orchestra ought to be playing with a smile on its collective face. The principal flautist was the redeeming wind player, but the oboes who answered the flautist’s call never failed to astonish with their cheerless lack of energy.
Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony was one of his biggest hits: The program in which it originally debuted was repeated four days later by popular request, and the second movement was encored both times. This second movement will be familiar even to those who don’t know Beethoven: Set up by an opening chord which states the change from A major to A minor—a chord on which the success of the whole movement depends—a simple and brooding theme begins in the deep heart of the string section and, with each variation, spreads outwards until the whole orchestra is smoldering with dense, fusional energy.
The sound which Blomstedt evoked—robustly warm, favoring the strings—played especially well in the Seventh Symphony. A solid, up-tempo performance of the famous second movement was followed by a genuinely enthusiastic scherzo and a tremendous finale which pulsed with all the furious excitement which the orchestra had contained up to that point.
The star of this performance was not, however, Blomstedt himself—as fine as his conducting may have been. Nor was it the concertmaster, though his performance was just as good. The eye was continually and irresistibly drawn to the principal of the second violins, Lisa Kim, who occupied the first chair to the conductor’s right. She was totally and utterly involved in the music to an extent that set her apart from every musician around her. The completeness and wholeness of her every gesture was life itself. The rapid twist of the wrist with which she plucked a dangling strand from the end of her bowstring between two vigorous passages provoked a smile from those attentive enough to notice it. The end of the performance delivered an astonishing, but definite conclusion. If everyone on stage had Lisa Kim’s fire and her sheer personality, this would be the greatest orchestra in the world.
Daniel Gelernter, an occasional contributor to THE WEEKLY STANDARD, is the CEO of a tech start-up.
