Grounded Beethoven, intense Shostakovich: Netherlands Radio Philharmonic in Vienna

In a program rich in contrast in the Goldener Saal of the Musikverein, veteran pianist Emmanuel Ax, rising superstar conductor Karina Canellakis, and the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic brought commitment and intentionality in a rewarding evening, pairing Beethoven’s early Second Piano Concerto and Shostakovich’s epically dark Eighth Symphony.

Having trained as a solo pianist in the US before making Vienna my home, one of the largest musical culture shocks I had upon arriving was finding out that I had been playing Beethoven, as my new teacher delicately put it, “completely wrong”. While in the States Beethoven is taught as a bridging figure between the Classical and Romantic eras, in Vienna Beethoven is as Classical as Mozart and Haydn, particularly earlier works like his Op.19. As the concerto opened, it felt a bit like those two worlds colliding; while the orchestra took a very classical approach, with some of the opening short notes almost clipped to the point of Baroque-ness, Ax was treating Beethoven the same way I first learnt to love it. He played expressively and employed generous rubato and pedal, while still keeping his rhetoric intention unequivocally clear. It was a very grounded, deep-in-the-keys approach, and while he managed to survive Beethoven’s many technical snares successfully – itself no easy feat – it was hardly pristine. 

While Canellakis kept the whole thing together admirably, it was not until the second movement that the groups settled into a common style, but then there were stunningly elegiac moments to enjoy. The highlight, however, was the finale, where Ax delivered all the syncopations and surprises with a hearty eye-wink throughout the jocular rondo, which prompted delighted demands for a solo encore, a beautiful rendition of Chopin’s Nocturne in C sharp minor, Op.27 no.1.

Shostakovich’s darkly fatalistic Symphony no. 8 in C minor is an absolute monster of a composition, and it was wonderful to hear such a completely committed performance. From the opening double-dotted motif in the low strings, which soon turn to plaintive violin tunefulness, it was absolutely devastating. While much ink has been spilled on determining what exactly the symphony is ‘about’ – from the horrors of war, to oppression under a dictatorial regime, to a fable of unrelenting struggle – nobody has ever argued that the work is a happy one, and the half-hour long first movement alone was crushingly heartbreaking. 

Canellakis, who snagged the coveted Solti Conducting Award a few years back and has been fairly unstoppable since, drew an impressive degree of commitment and intensity from her entire ensemble; the musical contours were well-defined and she led with both energy and utter clarity. The dark Allegretto, a march-scherzo, was perfectly grotesque, like a nightmarish marionette heralded by a piccolo solo (brava!) which grew to envelop all the winds and brass in its angular dance. My favorite was the robotic toccata of death to follow, an unrelenting, gritty motor rhythm beginning in the solo violins is punctuated by oboe and clarinet screams and slaps from the rest. All the soloists, but especially the English horn, got to strut their solo stuff in the Largo over the cello and bass passacaglia, with the flute soloist trotting out some impressive double-tonguing. Even if the hope composed into Shostakovich’s meandering finale seems a cold comfort, the power and intensity of the performance and the apparent rapport between Canellakis and the orchestra offered enough warmth to burn.