Thursday nights at the Hollywood Bowl mean classical music for the masses in a less-than-perfect setting that features soloists like the screaming baby, the giggly fan who’s had too much to drink and the rhythm of wine bottles cascading down the concrete steps. But on this night, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 was on the program; that meant a much larger crowd than usual and an elevated sense of occasion.
The audience was well-behaved, overhead planes were at a minimum and the amplification was unusually good. The esteemed old pro, maestro Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos, took advantage of the circumstances and gave us one of the better renditions of the Ninth that I’ve heard.
The program began tastefully enough with the Choral Fantasy, also by Beethoven. Pianist Jeremy Denk, who gave a wonderful performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 1 with Dudamel earlier this year at Disney Hall after Martha Argerich cancelled, was even more impressive here. He was very deft with his touch, altering between a beautiful, lyrical legato and crisp, clean speed. It mirrored what Burgos was doing with the orchestra, as they made the architecture of the piece elegantly apparent. While perhaps there was some imprecision between pianist and orchestra, and the soloists and choir felt a little restrained, it was a refreshing way to cleanse the palate, complete with a bubbly sparkle from the strings.
The Ninth has been played in a thousand different ways and modern conductors have to contend with how they would make it sound unique and very much their own. Burgos took a simple approach: Play the music as honestly as possible. The first movement had drive and assertion, accented by cheddar-sharp strings. The drama and tension were unambiguous, with Burgos drawing a warm, well-integrated color from all the sections. This continued into the second movement, where themes were emphatically delivered through a rich and woody sound. Every passage was distinct, which led me to visualize Burgos as a watchmaker who had chosen to expose the mechanism of Beethoven’s genius. The audience could see all of the gears at work, unadorned and austere in their operation. Maybe some would prefer a reading that was more ethereal, where the magician doesn’t reveal secrets. I liked Burgos’ take a lot, as if he had popped the hood of a Rolls-Royce and let us marvel at the craftsmanship and power of the running engine.
The third movement, the adagio, was beautiful in its plaintive humility. It was immensely moving without relying on sentimentality and it became clear (as if anyone needed any assurance) just how skilled and experienced Burgos is. This sort of conducting is not easy. The last movement brought it all home, with a picturesque “Ode to Joy” that celebrated brotherhood with the vigor Beethoven intended. Here, everyone on stage brought some thunder, with the soloists and choir breathing vivid life into the composer’s words of unity. The ovation was warranted and I think that on this night, even a jaded Los Angeles crowd was moved.
