Review: Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto at Usher Hall
By Lexie Dykes
Some friends and I went to Edinburgh for the evening at the end of reading week to watch Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto at Usher Hall. It came about serendipitously, with a friend of a friend asking if anyone wanted to join her. She had wanted to see the RSNO play for a while, and with the third movement of this concerto being my third-most listened to track last year according to Spotify, I jumped at the opportunity. The tickets were only £8 — and probably the best £8 I have ever spent. I fear I have been brainwashed by St Andrews ticket prices — I am still astounded that I could watch these talented professionals for the price of about three coffees, when most student events here cost upwards of £50. It only goes to show the importance of musical institutions endeavouring to make the arts accessible (an effort that we should recognise from a sector always so criminally underfunded).
The performance was divided into two halves by a short interval. In the first half, we heard Saint-Georges’ ‘Overture’ to L’amant Anonyme, and Haydn’s Symphony No.82, “The Bear”. I hadn’t heard either of these before, but I particularly enjoyed the ‘Overture’ and the first and last movements of “The Bear”.
I always think Classical music appears more intimidating than it really is, so for those who are not aware: in simple terms, a symphony usually comprises four movements, one of which is in Sonata form (which just means it has an ABA structure).
A view of the RSNO from the Grand Circle in Usher Hall
The second half of the performance was Beethoven’s fifth piano concerto, titled the “Emperor” concerto, which was written around 1809. Classic FM argues the title has more to do with it sounding strikingly different and imposing than others at its Viennese premiere in 1812, rather than to do with Napoleon, whom Beethoven’s third symphony was dedicated to before he became dismayed at Bonaparte’s coronation as Emperor. Either way, this concerto is recognised to have been written in a turbulent political year, with the French invasion of Austria.
Concertos are arranged where one solo instrument is accompanied by the orchestra, and are typically in three varied movements. I think the concerto format is probably the perfect way to listen to a Classical piece from start to end. The first movement establishes main themes, fully immersing you in the musical world the composer has set up. The second is slower, and thematically develops all the ideas that will be recapped and expanded on in virtuosic and dramatic ways in the final movement. This final movement often contains a cadenza where the soloist, in Leonard Bernstein’s words, ‘can really go to town by themselves’ and improvise near the end. The “Emperor” concerto actually does not have a cadenza as Beethoven wrote out every single solo passage. This is an even stronger testament as to how a concerto, despite being made of individual movements, is one entire carefully curated piece of work — and the same can be said of all music of the Classical and Romantic periods.
I hardly listen to albums these days the whole way through or in order, but here I am reminded of how vital it is. This is the original Concept Album. The Beatles were lauded for it, but Beethoven did it over a hundred years earlier, and so did composers before him. Having listened more to the second and final movements of the “Emperor” concerto, I was reminded, by hearing the first movement again, how it only makes perfect sense in sequence. It takes you on a journey that is incredibly cathartic — and dare I say sublime in effect.
From the very first fully textured E flat major chord followed by the first phrase of the solo piano, the first movement is introduced as dynamic, exciting and heroic. I had forgotten how rhythmic, playful and powerful this is, the longest of the three at 20 minutes. Leonskaja and the RSNO played incredibly well (as expected). It must be noted Leonskaja played with not a single sheet of music for the entire 37 minutes, which just blew my mind. It was fascinating to hear this live because I had grown very accustomed to specific recordings. I noticed some very subtle differences, for example a section in the third movement I love for being forceful, loud and jubilant, was played a bit more mellow.
This reminded me that pieces do not exist in a static vacuum over time or perfectly on sheet music, but are rendered with character and originality through performances that collectively interpret the score. I personally love the 1994 recording of Maurizio Pollini with the Berlin Philharmonic but also have always listened to the second movement from a different recording, played by Pollini earlier in his career. The track has a crackly production quality, and you can hear the artifacts frequency which I think is charming. This may be the recording used in Dead Poets Society, where I first truly appreciated this movement that I now love. It is subtle and serene. The simple solo melodies and soft changing homophonic harmonies swell with romantic expression.
This performance displays how effectively Beethoven varies dynamics, and the end of the second movement is a great example of this. Quiet, ascending chords in the home key are abruptly subverted by the loud and virtuosic main theme of the third movement as it comes crashing in. This awesome transition just radiates excitement. We had a perfect view of Leonskaja’s hands which were entrancing to watch as they glided over the piano. I had never realised just how much of the “Emperor” concerto, especially this final movement, is based on scales and arpeggios, until watching it being played across the entire range of the concert piano.
The final movement is in a seven-part rondo form. The main theme (A) is alternated by different and returning other themes (B and C) where piano and orchestra often work together in a loose call and response format, modifying all themes in genius ways. Following Leonskaja’s final solo passage consisting of fast jaw-dropping scales, the orchestra concludes with full-bodied short chords which finally resolve, leaving you astounded.
The majority of us don’t listen to Classical music enough, let alone any of it live. I assumed my friends and I would bring the age demographic down tenfold, but I was proved quite wrong. There were many other young people attending, some on what looked like dates (that’s a date I could get behind so lovers, take notes). More seriously, it gave me a sense of hope that I was caught off guard by.
With the prevalence of easily-consumed content that we as a generation can’t break away from, it was moving to see proof of this collective desire to engage in what an evening in a concert hall fundamentally is — an act of mindfulness. For however long, you are forced to sit, look and listen. With no lyrics to ponder on, it demands your attention purely with sound. I cannot see why people say instrumental music is boring when Beethoven’s fifth piano concerto is so varied. It is dramatic, uplifting, serene, aggressive, beautiful, moving and dynamic. It is always a joy and an honour to watch esteemed musicians and a talented musical director work together in perfect harmony.