ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT Great Symphonic Architect 80

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30759, 25 May 1965, Page 6

ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT Great Symphonic Architect 80

[By a special correspondent of "The Times."] Prompted by a knowledgeable friend, I can remember in April, 1954, attending a Festival Ball concert at which Dr. Otto Klemperer, who celebrates his eightieth birthday earlier this month, conducted the Phllharmonla Orchestra in Beethoven’s second and “Eroica” symphonies. The hall was not full: word had not yet spread that one of the greatest most perceptive Beethoven conductors of all time was again being heard in this country. Furtwangler, the supremely subjective conductor, who had mesmerised Philharmonia audiences for several seasons, was about to leave the scene for ever; Klemperer, the objective symphonic architect, would succeed him. Now, 11 years later, Dr. Klemperer, in the glorious Indian summer of his career, is revered above all others in this country, his concerts usually sold out in a day, his records constantly in demand. MUSICAL HONESTY What makes this masterly, undemonstrative patriarch of a conductor so beloved by performers and public alike is his patent musical honesty. Spurning the pomp and circumstance that his position could command, he seeks the truth about the composer and what he has written. He trusts the text and lets it speak for itself. He does not pass judgments. Before he conducts a work at a concert or in the recording studio, he studies it anew, always seeking a yet more coherent, luminous account of the score in hand. It has often been said that once Klemperer has set 3 piece on its course, it continues, logically and imper ceptibly, to its end in one huge arc of sound. This view disregards his concern that every detail of dynamics phrasing, and note values should be given its due weight. Certainly he discerns the correct pulse for eacl movement or section and does not veer from it, but this suggests a rigidity and lack oi spontaneity that does noi tally with the rreshness witl which his performances are imbued. Nor is he, as is sometime! implied, strictly a conductoi •of the classics. He may no' (why should he?) today wist to learn a new score, but ii his earlier years he was wel abreast with the avant garde GAVE SUPPORT In orchestral concerts aftei the First World War, witi the Kroll opera in Berlin a the end of the twenties, am in Los Angeles (where hi

.renewed his acquaintance (with Schoenburg) in the thirties, he supported and performed what was new in music. Moreover, he is reported to have even attended jazz sessions in California. In his book “Minor Recollections,” published last year, he says: “I found myself wearing a sort of dog-collar marked ‘Beethoven specialist.’ Things were very different in my earlier days. “Having been engaged to direct the state-subsidised Staatstheater in Berlin (the Krolloper), I was able to present a great deal that was new and even experimental. In those days, therefore, I was called a ‘modern conduc1 tor.’ 1 “Neither description is accurate. I am neither a 1 Beethoven specialist nor a I ‘modern’ conductor. My aim ■ has always been to conduct cometently in all musical ■ styles.” ’ TESTIMONIAL ' In London, apart from Beet- . hoven and Brahms, he has ’ been heard most frequently in ’ Mozart, Bruckner, and Mahler. ' His Mozart may sound unbeni i t i t t a .- e v t s e s h s s f it h e s r it h n II ir h it d e

ding, even graceless, to a generation nurtured on Beecham, but his scrupulous approach is perhaps truer to the composer’s intention. At any rate, there is room for both views. Compared with Walter’s interpretations, his Bruckner and Mahler may sound stern and unsmiling, but was it not Mahler who wrote a testimonial to the young conductor at the outset of his career?

Today he is largely withdrawn from the outside world (perhaps that is how he conserves his strength for tackling the large symphonic and choral repertory) yet, paradoxically, he is always concerned for the welfare of those around him, probably because he knows what it is to suffer. PRACTICAL

The brain tumour that struck him down in 1939, his fall in the autumn of 1952, and his scalding in 1958, any of these might have killed the spirit of a weaker-willed man. He has overcome them all to rise each time with renewed vigour to fresh triumphs. Therefore, there is no crisis

today that can disturb his equanimity.

Most orchestral players like him, so it is said, because he never diminishes them. He likes to be thought of as a practical musician like them. The effect that he has on musicians is best expressed by the member of the New Philharmonia Orchestra who said: “You see. it’s as though Beethoven himself was standing there.” At rehearsals, he will take one section of a work at a time, only breaking in if absolutely necessary to alter or correct phrasing. He usually reserves his comment till the end of that section. His beat, although he now conducts from a sitting position without a baton, is said to be unmistakable.

Stories that indicate his dry humour are becoming nearly as legion as those retailed about Beecham. At a cello entry a player once turned to Dr. Klemperer and said that he had given the cellos a clear direction in that place for the first time in history. Back came the reply: “In English history. . . .’’

Yet he is a man of iron will who will not lightly brook opposition. In 1941 he is said to have fallen out with the New York City Symphony because he insisted on playing “Siegfried Idyll” with a small orchestra as Wagner intended instead of in the more frequently heard full orchestral version.

BOW WITH OVERCOAT He has no time foi* show or display, nor is he a respecter of person or even tradition. Once to signify finality he took his last bow with his overcoat already on his shoulders. Nevertheless, according to associates, he is deeply moved by the warmth of his reception on returning to the Festival Hall after a long absence.

We know little of the inner man. In his book, nothing is revealed of the spiritual force or the beliefs that drive him. No matter: it must be counted as an honour that, though he has not made his home in England, he makes most of his music here. His career to date can be summed up in his advice to young conductors: “Be loyal to the music.”