They May Never Play Beethoven This Well Again
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Despite its vestigial name, the New York String Orchestra sports a full complement of instruments. Its Carnegie Hall concert last Wednesday was the culmination of a 10-day seminar for aspirants ranging in age from 15 to 22, although an unscientific observation indicated they tended toward the elder end of the spectrum.
Considering how short a time these young musicians have to solidify as a unit, their sound was quite spectacular – much more impressive than, for example, the New York Youth Symphony, whose members are the same age and work together all season. Mentored and conducted by local chamber music veteran Jaime Laredo, they presented a varied program, including a surprisingly professional rendition of the Symphony No. 7 of Beethoven.
My favorite Beethoven symphony is almost always the one to which I am listening at the moment, but I can certainly understand the passion of those who elevate the Seventh above the others. No essay in all of music is more affecting than its slow movement, and 20th-century conductors from Mahler to von Karajan have expressed the deepest anguish by layering a very slow tempo upon it, with wave upon wave of ever more searing string passages describing man’s inhumanity to man. A favorite among filmmakers to accompany images of starving children or bombed cities, this intensely emotional music never fails to touch an audience to its very core.
Recently, however, mostly due to the belligerence of the period-instrument crowd, shapers of repertoire have begun to re-examine the movement, performing it at a much faster tempo and emphasizing its rocking characteristics, more a barcarolle than an adagio (it is in fact an allegretto). Whatever the interpretation, this movement is but the centerpiece of a quartet of sections, which leaves the listener only to debate whether the first or the fourth movement is the more terrifically exciting.
After more than 25 years as a founding member of the KLR trio, Mr. Laredo is emerging as a solid conductor. His gestures are cogent and relevant, without the overlay of histrionics. He opted for a relatively slow second movement that still maintained its identity as an allegretto. There was some rocking of an almost lullaby quality, but little sense of the music’s dramatic, painstaking construction of grief.
More satisfying were the outer movements. The Poco sostenuto – Vivace was thrilling, the players able to handle the internal crescendi and playful juggling of the melodic material quite deftly. The strings had a charmingly well-blended sound, the winds and brass strong punctuators, the horns nailing the seemingly impossible ending high notes. The final Allegro con brio was also dexterously coordinated, although without the crisp bite of a first-rate “apotheosis of the dance.”
It was, in one sense, difficult to remember that these were but youthful acolytes, since their execution was so excellent.Yet their enviable combination of passion and enthusiasm alerted us to the undeniable fact that they are untouched thus far by the self-indulgent cynicism of most contemporary American orchestral practitioners. Some of these performers, caught up in the spirit-crushing conservatory system, may never play Beethoven this well again.
Hilary Hahn, not much older than the others, was on hand to shine in two concerti. I am not quite ready to anoint her as the best violinist of our age just yet, but she and Midori are certainly the most intelligent. Ms. Hahn is a true scholar of performance practice, and began the program with a strong showing in the Bach Concerto for Two Violins and Orchestra in D minor with Mr. Laredo in the second chair.
In this particular piece, she exhibited an extremely strong and remarkably consistent bowing technique, devoid of any hint of vibrato. Her sound was pure and beautiful, but also pleasingly sinewy. The ensemble provided an understated and serene background.
Ms. Hahn’s other effort was the A minor of Louis Spohr, the No. 8.This is not the Spohr concerto that was the constant flip side of the Bruch G minor in the LP era, but rather the “in modo di scena cantante.” The work is an ingenious reworking of a standard bel canto aria in an opera seria style, the violin transformed into a lovely mezzo-soprano.
Here Ms. Hahn’s approach was completely different from that employed in the Bach, as she developed her line like a great singer, complete with soaring high notes and florid ornamentation. She played magnificently and the experience of listening was golden, although almost a half-hour of the oom-pah-pah accompaniment was a bit wasteful of the talents of the students.
Also included on the program was a remarkably disciplined account of the Barber Adagio for Strings. This was my last concert of 2005, and I appreciated its variety. After all, we aren’t going to hear much except Mozart (and a little Shostakovich) for an entire year.