So here's a 'Fritz Busch Motherload.' We obviously have more of Busch in the opera pit than in the concert hall - multiple Wagner, Verdi, and of course, most of the major Mozart operas. But here's Busch doing Beethoven 5 and 9, Mendelssohn's Italian, the Egmont, Leonore 2, and Brahms's Tragic Overture.
The sound is... dry... even past Toscanini in 8H at its most dry. It's very easy to rag on the Urania label, they release rare performances in sound that can be truly unattractive, but they provide us performances no one else does, and it gives windows into how performers did certain works we'd never otherwise have.
Take the Beethoven 5... The hugely exciting finale has a massive cut. I have no idea if this is a radio broadcast cut or due to sound distortion impossible to remaster. The timpani can be quite distorting, and at the second movement's piu moto you literally can't hear the string figures until the bassoon comes in. But would we really rather be without a document of what Busch does with Beethoven 5?. Busch starts rather low key, but through a series of very natural, slight, unimposing accelerations, Busch releases a very rare level of momentum. The tempi are quick enough that the HIP movement might approve, but this is completely different from the Kleibers' way of exciting us through precision and visceral attack, and through the fearsomely dry sound, you hear that Busch gets even the New York Philharmonic to play with an old world warmth and glow. It is such a shame that we don't have a Busch Beethoven 5 in good sound, but from the sound of it, he could have gone toe-to-toe with either Kleiber.
And then there's the three overtures, all of which are as good as they've ever been done. Regardless of the sound, just listen...
The Mendelssohn Italian, on the other hand, is unfortunate, not because of the bad sound, but because of the quality of the Danish orchestra. Objectively great playing is not as important in works where the musical depth speaks for itself, but Mendelssohn's Italian, for all its many virtues, is as much or more a piece of light entertainment as art (ducks from oncoming fire), and if you don't have an immaculate surface, there isn't all that much beneath the surface to bring out. Great technique is a shallow artistic virtue, and it's much more important to be technically impressive when you're being an entertainer than it is when you're being an artist.
So then there's that 9th. Busch, like Erich Kleiber, Munch, Scherchen, took tempi that probably seemed lightning quick at the time. And so, by the way, did Bruno Walter until his final recordings. Performances like this breathe a much more authentic connection to Beethoven's time than Gardiner or Norrington.
For those of you who are musicians, think of any new piece you've ever played in. The first fifty performances, you feel lucky to get through the thing in one piece. There is absolutely no way that the first full-size orchestras played with the precision and blend we are accustomed to, let alone play that way at the tempi specified. A performance that is the ultimate in precision misses the point. Notes are not there to be notes, notes are there to serve a purpose, and if you hear every note with pellucid clarity with no geist behind them, what is the point? The attacks of a whole orchestra are are often meant feel smudged, pizzicati are often meant to sound like jangling keys, the sixteenth note runs should sometimes sound a bit like a bee swarm, the wind chorales are sometimes meant to sound slightly 'off' in their tuning just as church organs often are. Obviously, the playing shouldn't be incompetent, but nor should it draw attention to itself. In a great performance, are we really supposed to think 'oh my god, this orchestra is amazing' or are we meant to think 'oh my god, this music is amazing and the orchestra clearly understands that as well as we do!'?
The 14 1/2 minute opening hangs fire a bit in spite of the faster tempo (probably 76 to the quarter). The performance really only heats up in the Scherzo, which, like many traditional performances, is actually faster than Beethoven's 116 to the half. The Dionysian abandon of a performance like this would be impossible amid a better orchestra. But the glory of this performance is the Mozartianly vocal Adagio, which is taken roughly 50 to the quarter. It is so incredibly natural, so deeply felt, in a way that slower performances often are not with their artificial Wagnerian impositions, and certainly that quicker performances are not. The main theme of the last movement is so fast that the soloists can barely stay in tune in their effort to stay on Busch's tempo. Is that a good thing? Not entirely, but the excitement is undeniable, and preferable to so many more precise performances.
In the same way that Walter and Klemperer were opposites of each other, Busch was Erich Kleiber's opposite number. No one can fault Papa Kleiber iron discipline when he released such flights of expression. Busch was much more laissez-faire about execution and much more willing to rewrite parts, and yet the sloppiness never precluded rhythmic incision, and it was always done in a way that drew attention to the music rather than the performers. One approach is not necessarily better than the other, both have strengths and flaws, but modern performances could stand to learn a lot from musicians like Busch, and realize that there are much more important things than not being noticed for the mistakes you make.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADOJz9YLYKs&list=OLAK5uy_l7JP-I6NwYZMzcjKwpCgRO0sV7BXVkUnU&index=2
