Since the genuine paradigm shift brought about by the emergence of historically informed performance, significant changes have also taken place in the interpretation of music from the Classical period onwards. Beethoven was one of the first composers whose work was affected by these changing practices. This culminated in performances such as those by Frans Brüggen and Jos van Immerseel. However, the realisation that music is not ahistorical has permeated even contemporary interpretations using modern instruments. And this is not without its problems, which stem from a fundamental contradiction. Indeed, the modern evolution of instrument-making can undoubtedly be explained, as Nikolaus Harnoncourt suggests in his Musical Discourse, by a tendency to bring Romantic aspirations up to date, which is embodied in post-Romanticism through the conception of a more unified melody, more blended sections and a more cohesive and imposing orchestra. The orchestral line-up was restructured around a significantly higher number of string sections, whose sonic power had increased compared with the timbres familiar to Beethoven. Until the post-Romantic era, the strings had in fact played a less central role, within a resolutely different orchestral dynamic, with the musical discourse then centring on the woodwinds and percussion. The modernity of musical discourse does indeed seem, in a sense, paradoxical. Indeed, it appears to be understood as the incorporation of new insights into the historicity of instrument-making into performances that are, more often than not, modelled on modern instruments. However, whilst pre-20th-century instrument-making was based in particular on contrast and the separation of sections – although sections could be blended within a single unit; for example, whilst the strings may be unified, they function in contrast to the woodwinds and percussion – contemporary instrumental composition seems to have pursued the Romantic ideal in order to bring it up to date – in what might essentially be called post-Romanticism – namely, sonic unification.
These two interpretations are those offered by Kristiina Poska and Joe Hisaichi. Both artists have also recorded the complete set of symphonies – although Poska’s complete set has not yet been released in full; at the time of writing, Symphonies Nos. 4, 6 and 9 are still missing.
Firstly, Kristiina Poska, despite the instruments of the Flanders Symphony Orchestra being of a more modern make and therefore smoother-sounding than in Beethoven’s day, demonstrates her awareness of the performance conditions that prevailed at the time of composition. However, Poska slows the tempo slightly compared to the contemporary standard. She does this to refocus the interpretation on the music’s structure – its framework – and how the movements are constructed, drawing attention to their architectural design. Poska also makes the most of the timbre of contemporary instruments: the sound of the woodwinds is noticeably softer and more nuanced, contrasting with the bite she gives to the attacks, thanks to a smaller ensemble compared to post-Romantic interpretations, and a distribution of the brass parts more in keeping with the early nineteenth century. Nevertheless, the interpretative touch is very much present! The fluidity of the phrasing is impressive, and the most remarkable thing is that all this control – which is, in a way, quite palpable – does not detract from the naturalness of the performance, and the musical discourse is never showy. Her interpretation is thus magnificent in several respects. Firstly, because of the wealth of detail one can discern in it, whilst all of it is consistently imbued with the same energy that drives the narrative. Secondly, because of her interplay with the textures and contrasts of the orchestral fabric. Here, energy blends superbly with finesse and an extraordinary capacity for storytelling and vivid imagery. Poska’s performance is living proof that strong, committed interpretative choices are entirely possible in the current climate.
Joe Hisaishi, for his part, is not primarily famous for his work as an interpreter. He is first and foremost a brilliant composer, best known – even before his more experimental works – for the music he has composed for the films of Hayao Miyazaki and Takeshi Kitano. However, we must not overlook his inspirations drawn from the more traditional Western repertoire, some of which he has already recorded on several occasions. Hisaishi, at the helm of the Future Orchestra Classics, thus delivers a performance of the Seventh Symphony that is very much in keeping with the latest historical and musicological research. On the one hand, this is evident in the tempo, which is closer to the contemporary standard than Poska’s, and, of course, on the other hand, in the dynamics, with a chamber orchestra lending a great deal of energy to the musical discourse. This time, however – in contrast to Kristiina Poska – the holistic approach is achieved by treating each movement as a world in its own right, with each movement thus possessing a unique character of its own. The musical discourse may be less formally structured, but it is distinctly more figurative — the Allegretto is a splendid example of this, displaying absolutely astonishing finesse. The figuration is still driven by detail, but it is a different form of storytelling. There is less raw power here, and even less of an architectural structure. Rather, the narrative is built upon a strange duality between impressionism – one senses the film composer – and animation – the aim is almost to transcend the purely musical experience.
Having outlined the differences between these two interpretations, what is it that unites them? Firstly, a focus on the energy – a renewed vitality – of Beethoven’s music, re-evaluated by contemporary research into the historicity of the works. Technically speaking, the timpani rolls are conceived as crescendos, and the string parts are all placed on the same level, thereby emphasising the counterpoint. But what also unites them is this use of contemporary timbres, and their distinct colours, to bring out as many details as possible through subtle interplay of contrasts – typically, allowing the multiple layers that make up a chord to emerge as it draws to a close. Above all, the orchestral performance becomes a dialogue here, and perhaps one of the strengths of the contemporary approach is that it has restored a sense of intersubjectivity between the sections – something the post-Romantic approach seemed to overlook, or at times even deny.


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