Stutzmann conducts ASO in unique interpretation of Bruckner

Gustav Mahler, whose symphonic monumentality is sometimes seen as a parallel with Bruckner’s, wrote bluntly about the older composer’s charms and limitations. Preparing to conduct a performance, Mahler spoke of the best Bruckner themes as holding “Beethovenian grandeur,” while admitting that his music was often a mishmash, “a sort of fabric that someone has woven with old bits of thread chosen at random and coarsely knotted.” This assessment, to our ears, sounds delightfully similar to today’s mix-n-match cultural aesthetic.

Structurally, Bruckner modeled his Ninth — left incomplete at his death in 1896 — after Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. They’re both in the key of D minor. They both open with a quivering, primordial tremolo from which rhythmic fragments and, perhaps the essence of life itself, seem to emerge out of the silence. One key to Bruckner’s music is his use and overuse of short, blocky, repeated themes called an ostinato. (Orchestral musicians say they love the delayed satisfaction these bring to Bruckner’s harmonic resolutions; at the same time, they fear repetitive stress injuries.)

Yet, when all the elements of his Symphony No. 9 are balanced and in place, the experience is nothing less than transcendental.

Last Thursday in Symphony Hall, Stutzmann and the ASO took the solemn and mysterious first movement cautiously, as if they were exploring a wondrous, alien landscape, pausing for an instant before each new section. This was Stutzmann at her best, taking apart a familiar piece of music and carefully reassembling the bits into a fresh new whole.

When that opening mist and tremolo gave way to heavy power chords, the conductor made the shift very pronounced. Moments later, a new theme, plucked out by the strings, took over. She let that one play itself out and fade into silence, too, then seemed to take a deep breath before moving forward. Indeed, throughout the symphony, she never tried to smooth the edges, which at times made the music sound especially bold and raw.

And she often brought out inner woodwind voices, so a tweeting flute or slithering clarinet line, which one rarely notices, was made prominent. This subtle but meaningful shift in emphasis gave the whole symphony less a sense of churchy piety — the famous “cathedral of sound” approach to Bruckner’s music — than of a deep connection with nature and the spirituality of being connected to the land and the Earth.

Along the way, a few blurry passages and horn flubs were of little consequence, since Stutzmann’s interpretation was of real originality and substance. She took an almost contrarian view of the symphony’s traditions. The ASO played nothing by rote.

Credit: Photo by Rand Lines

Credit: Photo by Rand Lines

The conductor took the second movement, a lively scherzo, a little too fast for comfort, which made it feel less controlled and often unpredictable. At this tempo, an Austrian-style folk dance tune sounded like Mendelssohn — elfin and mischievous. The pounding blocks that followed seemed especially heavy in weight and contrast. This isn’t your standard Bruckner. For a time, it all worked beautifully.

But just as Stutzmann can reimagine familiar music, she sometimes can’t follow through to the end. Perhaps she hadn’t processed the entire symphony. Perhaps they lacked sufficient rehearsal time. Maybe fatigue had set in across the physically taxing, hour-long work. Whatever the cause, the orchestra’s energy level and focus dropped for the all-important third movement, marked as adagio, for what should be the emotional heart of the symphony.

Here the tiny pauses between each block started to drain, rather than heighten, the tension. Here the music felt less organic, gradually replaced by a sense that someone was steering the music from above, and the orchestral players weren’t always following that direction. There were lovely moments in the adagio, to be sure, with ethereal strings and majestic playing from the brass.

After so much incisive playing, however, the painful climax of the entire symphony — a searing dissonance, held for eight measures at full volume — felt mild and almost passed without impact. Thus the gentle coda that followed felt a little rambly, since its functional purpose in the musical architecture wasn’t realized.

Last Thursday, unexpectedly, no one in the audience applauded after the symphony’s final notes. Through the subtleties of the orchestra’s playing — as if refusing to let the music ebb away — and by Stutzmann’s tense posture on the podium, we held our breath and waited to see what came next.

Bruckner completed the first three movements of his Ninth Symphony in a satisfying slow-fast-slow arch and was working on sketches for the fourth movement when he died. Perhaps in a deathbed panic, he told a student that his sacred Te Deum (“We Praise Thee, O God”), written more than a decade earlier, should serve as the symphony’s finale. (Again, he likely had Beethoven’s Ninth in mind, with its choral “Ode to Joy” finale.) With no applause, and thus without a literal or psychological break, we could judge the Te Deum-as-finale on its merits.

The problem is that the Te Deum has a completely different mood and energy. It’s almost jolly — decidedly not where the Ninth Symphony was taking us. By the end of this 25-minute choral extravaganza, the unique power of the Ninth had faded. It’s not a capstone to the symphony but a distraction.

Taken as a stand-alone piece of sacred music, however, their Te Deum was near ideal. The ASO Chorus, having sat perfectly still during the symphony, was in splendid form. The four young vocal soloists — soprano Christina Nilsson, mezzo Marina Viotti, tenor James Ley and bass Adam Lau — were positioned behind the orchestra and just in front of the chorus. They were sensationally well-matched and in buoyant spirits.

With this two-weekend mini festival devoted to one composer, Stutzmann is showing us that there are many ways to succeed with Bruckner’s music. By the concert’s end, it felt like her way wasn’t necessarily more insightful or more emotionally moving; it was just different. Stutzmann’s interpretations are often like that: Her unique vision of the piece is an end in itself.

CONCERT REVIEW

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra

Performing the two-program festival Bruckner@200: Architect of the Spirit. Part two: Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 and Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 22, 8 p.m. Jan. 25 and Jan. 27. $26-$123. Symphony Hall, 1280 Peachtree St. NE. 404-733-5000, atlantasymphony.org.

Pierre Ruhe was the founding executive director and editor of ArtsATL. He’s been a critic and cultural reporter for the Washington Post, London’s Financial Times and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and was director of artistic planning for the Alabama Symphony Orchestra. He is publications director of Early Music America.

Credit: ArtsATL

Credit: ArtsATL

MEET OUR PARTNER