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"The symphony would be all the better - it lasts a whole hour - if Beethoven could reconcile himself to making some cuts in it and to bringing to the score more light, clarity and unity."
Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung
First performed at a semi-private concert at the palace of Prince Lobkowitz (its eventual dedicatee) in December 1804, performed in semi-private again at the house of the banker Herr von Würth, and finally given in public on April 7, 1805 (has anyone ever remarked on the fact that Beethoven's first three symphonies were all premiered in the first week of April?), the 'Eroica' is a candidate for the greatest symphony ever written and the work which established the symphony as the major form of musical expression for the 19th century. The first audiences were astonished at virtually every aspect of the work, particularly its length, which exceed by a considerable margin every symphony had preceded it.
Beethoven's penchant for breaking the "rules" is well to the fore in this symphony: in the recapitulation of the first movement there is a passage where the horn anticipates the return to the home key by several bars. This was so surprising, that Ferdinand Ries, one of Beethoven's pupils, remarked that the "damned horn player" had come in too early. The composer was less than amused.
What is the symphony about? The story of Beethoven's scratching out the original dedication to Napoleon Buonaparte, on hearing that he had crowned himself emperor, is of course (perhaps too) well-known. Whether the story is true or merely anecdotal, it has a poetic truth which transcends mere fact.
Perhaps the work is about heroism, or triumph in the face of adversity. Perhaps the "hero" of the work is the composer himself, who by the time of its composition was already aware of his encroaching deafness. Ultimately each listener must decided for him or herself.
As befits such a towering masterpiece there have been many great recordings of this work and it is absolutely impossible to reduce them to a single recommended version. I have almost 100 recordings of this symphony in my own collection and have not finished with it yet.
Of stereo versions, Klemperer's 1961 version displays all his virtues: toughness and a concern for architecture above all else; this is coupled with a 1955 early-stereo orchestral version of the Grosse Fugue which is worth the price of admission alone. Walter's 1959 recording is also outstanding, coupled with a stirring Coriolan overture.
My favourite early-stereo performance, though, is also one of the cheapest, conducted by Hermann Scherchen.
Hermann who? I can hear you saying. Older readers - I mean much older - will remember Scherchen's name: he was one of those conductors who, during the 1950s especially, recorded enormous amounts of the standard repertoire, often with second rate (or worse) orchestras and inadequate rehearsal time, for budget labels which are no longer with us. Frequently even the orchestras operated under a nom-de-disque for contractual reasons; in this particular recording the LPO masquerades under the sobriquet "Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra of London".
Scherchen's Westminster recording was reissued by MCA in the late 1980s, in a 2CD set coupled with the First, Sixth and Eighth symphonies; the set drew rave reviews in Fanfare.
As usual with any set like this, I turned to the Eroica first. With so many different recordings in my collection of this one symphony, a new one has to rather special to make much of an impact. I could hardly believe my ears at this performance. While the "authentic" school may like to think it invented fast tempi in music of this era, it ain't necessarily so. Scherchen takes the first movement of the Eroica faster than anybody else I have ever heard (bar one - see below). Not only that, he makes the tempo work: a truly amazing feat of concentration. And, he includes the exposition repeat: more evidence that recent "advances" may not be as recent, or as much of an advance, as some would have you believe. A truly great performance. This may by now have been reissued in MCA's new Millenium series (Scherchen's 6/8 disc has) although the line also includes a Cincinatti Eroica under Max Rudolf (hardly in the same league unfortunately).
The 1960s NYPO/Bernstein (Sony) is indeed excellent, very exciting if a little dryly recorded, as so many of those CBS 1960s recordings tended to be.
The 1961 Concertgebouw/Monteux (Philips) is also very fine, with quick tempi - especially for a conductor well into his 80s. This is part of an excellent Decca/London 2CD set including the First, Sixth and Eighth symphonies.
There are several Leningrad PO/Mravinsky live recordings available on CD. Mravinsky is one of only three modern conductors to have presided over the same orchestra for half a century (Concertgebouw/Mengelberg and OSR/Ansermet being the others). The version on Erato is the only "official" release and probably the most easily available. Not your standard interpretation, but a great performance from one of the century's great (unsung) conductors.
For a really controversial version, try the 1978 LAPO/Giulini recording now reissued on DG's Originals. His first movement tempo (over 20 minutes as opposed to between 15 and 18 by other conductors) takes some getting used to, but this is certainly a different performance and beautifully played.
On the other hand, avoid Giulini's Sony remake, which is even slower. He just misses (by mere seconds) being, as far as I know, the first Eroica to go over the hour; but somewhere in the intervening two decades much of the fire has gone out of Giulini's work and this is just dull.
Another remarkable slow performance is by the BBC SO under Sir John Barbirolli on a long-deleted EMI LP. Barbirolli is an underrated conductor, and a great Beethovenian. Finally this recording has been reissued on CD by Biddulph. Shame on EMI, I say, but full marks to Biddulph.
My vote for the greatest ever recording would go to Furtwängler's 1944 Vienna recording. This has amazing electricity and a real sense of danger in the ebb and flow of the tempi, particularly in the first movement. Although this was, for many years, very hard to find outside of France, there are now several CD transfers. The first of these, on the Pricele$$ (sic) label should probably be avoided: other CDs from this source would suggest that the transfer is from less-than-immaculate sources and carelessly done.
The version on the Swiss Bayer da Capo label, however, is superb; they seem to have (for the first time) transferred the work at the correct pitch (WWII tape-recordings are notoriously difficult to reproduce at the correct speed - transferring wartime tapes has been afflicted with the same problems, in this respect, as early 78s), the performance is incredible - exhausting even - and the recording is quite astonishing for its date. To my mind an essential second version; I wouldn't recommend it as a primary version because of its age and because you couldn't listen to it too often, it's just too overpowering.
The 1952 Furtwängler VPO studio recording is also a great performance, easily available and coupled with a fine No.1 There is also a wonderful 1952 live Furtwängler performance on the Italian 'Virtuoso' label which can sometimes be found cheap at chain stores - you have to keep looking though; this does seem to have been fairly well transferred, considering the source. Be warned that there is severe confusion over the exact dating of live Furtwängler Eroica's from the early 1950s - with four performances in particular: 20 June 1950, 30 November 1952, 7 December 1952 and 8 December 1952 often being misdated and misattributed on record covers. Serious Furtwängler collectors beware!
The 1953 Toscanini version has been reissued by RCA but I still don't care for it. His 1949 recording is only available in the complete set. His 1938 and 1939 performances outshine both of them by a considerable margin. The 1939 is probably preferable; it is available on a Music & Arts CD coupled with an equally good 5th from 1933.
The marvellous 1955 version by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Erich Kleiber has bee available on CD (Decca London) but may by now have disappeared. In the early '50s there was talk of the mythical conductor Toscwängler, the man who would combine the razor's-edge precision of Toscanini with the intellect and spirituality of Furtwängler. If anyone came close to filling this role it was, to judge by this recording, Erich Kleiber.
There is also a very fine version by Kleiber with the Concertgebouw (Decca/London) dating from 1950. The sound is a little rougher than the later version but the performance is every bit as fine - if not finer.
One of the most extroardinary performances I know on record is also one of the very earliest: the recording made in 1926 by Albert Coates. Coates is probably best-remembered as the selfish conductor who robbed Elgar of valuable rehearsal time for the first performance of his Cello Concerto in 1919 - Lady Elgar referred top him as a "pig" If I remember aright.
Whatever his personality defects, Coates was an outstanding conductor whose legacy is only now beginning to reappear (his 1926 Beethoven 9 should also be reissued asap). Coates's 1926 Eroica is remarkable for its fleetness; he vies with Scherchen for speed in the first movement and has no peer in the scherzo (3:30 for those who care for timings). This is currently available on the South African Claremont label (Coates retired to and died in South Africa) coupled with an equally astonishing Mozart Jupiter.
As far as "authentic" performances are concerned, the Brüggen live recording with the Orchestra of the 18th Century (Phillips) wins hands down as far as I'm concerned. This seems to be one of the few period performances that doesn't treat the music as an academic exercise, but knuckles down to the task of coming to grips with a great piece of art. (Parenthetically, I eagerly await the new recording by Jordi Savall, currently - June 18, 1997 - in the mail to me).
Not only that, but Brüggen's performance is a great one, one of great fire and depth. His first movement has something of the volatility of Furtwängler and I can think of no higher praise.
I find Norrington and Hogwood merely unintersting in this work, they seem to skate the surface of the music, particularly in the marcia funebre. Gardiner, on the other hand, I actively dislike. His first movement has been compared to a downhill bicycle race. An apt comparison, to my mind.
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