Centennial of conductor Sergiu Celibidache a reminder of poetic license
OK, I know -- I pay way too much attention to anniversary dates. Which reminds me: Why aren't people in Baltimore doing more to acknowledge the150th anniversary of Debussy's birth?
But I digress. Today's indulgence in backward glances has to do with Romanian conductor Sergiu Celibidache, born June 28, 1912 (he died Aug. 14, 1996). I think it's safe to say that the general classical music-loving public in this country does not know much about the man or his work. But he is well worth discovering.
Active mostly in Europe -- he led the Berlin Philharmonic after the war until Furtwangler's return and later held posts with orchestras in Stockholm, Munich and elsewhere -- Celibidache became something of a cult figure over time. This was due both to ...
his music-making, which, often at very unhurried tempos, could not have been more different than that of his contemporaries, and his almost mystical philosophizing about the art.
I think the first time I became aware of him was reading ecstatic newspaper accounts of his U.S. conducting debut, which didn't occur until 1984 -- leading a student orchestra, albeit the top-notch one from the Curtis Institute, at Carnegie Hall. You knew from reading about the event that this was no ordinary conductor.
I find much to savor in Celibidache's recordings, even when, on rare occasions, the pace is too slow for me (as you know, I usually can accept any extremes). What I admire is the integrity of the interpretations, the sense of deep connection to the tissue and sinew beneath a score.
This extraordinary conductor practices the musical equivalent of poetic license, an unbridled freedom of how to shape a phrase, to control a movement, all in an aim to make the music more vital and communicative -- to the players as much as listeners.
On the occasion of his centennial, here's a little sampling of Celibidache and his art: Rehearsal footage that has bad sound and visuals, but provides a glimpse into the man's personality (and how he could make a daringly slow tempo seem sensible in the scherzo from Beethoven's Ninth); and the final, uplifting measures of Bruckner's Eighth in a live performance:
Comments
Wonderful Tim. May I also strongly recommend YouTube video of Enescu 1st Rhapsody? Shows such wicked fun even in horrid sound and murky black and grey!
Thanks awfully. I will check it out pronto. TIM
Posted by: doris | June 28, 2012 12:12 PM
The Curtis concert - or parts of it, at least - are in fact available on YouTube. Among the Curtis alumni who played in this concert are David McGill, pricipal bassoonist of the Chicago Symphony, and violinist Maria Bachmann.
The Enescu Rhapsody may be the Celibidache performance for those who do not like Celibidache.
One thing that needs to be pointed out is that, like Otto Klemperer, Celibidache was only slow in the last years of his career. For instance, his live performance of Beethoven's violin concerto with Wolfgang Schneiderhan is certainly one of the fastest from the pre-HIP era.
Posted by: Don Ciccio | June 29, 2012 11:28 AM