
Herbert von Karajan live in Berlin, 1953–1969
Berliner Philharmoniker/Herbert von Karajan
rec. live, 1953-1969
Mono/Stereo
Berliner Philharmoniker Recordings BPHR240291 SACD [24 discs: 1466]
One conductor whose name has hitherto been missing from the catalogue of the Berliner Philharmoniker’s audio releases is Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989), who was appointed principal conductor for life of the orchestra in 1956; he relinquished that post in April 1989, just a matter of weeks before his death in July of that year. Now, the orchestra’s label has gathered together recordings of radio broadcasts which Karajan and the orchestra gave between 1953 and 1969; I believe most of these performances here appear on disc for the first time. A good deal of the music was recorded commercially – sometimes more than once – by Karajan and the BPO over the years. Within the collection we also find some works appearing more than once – Beethoven’s Ninth symphony and Tchaikovsky’s Fifth, for instance. On the other hand, there are some works – Richard Rodney Bennett’s Aubade and Ligeti’s Atmosphères – which. I think, are completely new to the Karajan discography. This is a very substantial collection, drawn from twenty-four concerts and covering, in its physical form, no fewer than 24 SACDs. Appraising everything in the collection would be a considerable, if enjoyable, task, taking quite some time to complete. In order to cover the set as expeditiously yet thoroughly as possible, therefore, we have decided, as a one-off, upon a combined project consisting of two separate and complementary reviews. In this review, I will deal with the first twelve concerts (discs 1-10), running between 1953 and 1963. In a separate review my colleague, Philip Harrison will cover the remaining concerts, which took place between 1964 and 1969 (discs 11-24 in the SACD version of the set). Philip has worked through downloads, so over the course of these two reviews readers will get a view of the collection in both formats. Our reviews have been produced completely independently of each other.
The sources for these recordings are live radio broadcasts which Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic (BPO) made between 1963 and 1969. From the exhaustive and excellent documentation accompanying these discs, I learned that the original recordings were made by two radio stations: Rundfunk im Amerikanischen Sektor (RIAS) and Sender Freies Berlin (SFB). The earliest of the recordings precede Karajan’s appointment to succeed Wilhelm Furtwängler as the orchestra’s chief conductor. Before going on to discuss the recordings in detail, I think it’s worth making a couple of general points. One is that, in the earlier part of this substantial set it will be noted that the recordings don’t follow any regular pattern. For example, there’s one performance from each of the years 1953 to 1955; we have two concerts from 1956 and three from 1957 are included but there’s nothing from 1958. Actually, it’s not until 1965 that we get a regular flow. Of course, it’s quite possible that broadcasts were made – and recorded – with conductors other than Karajan; any such would lie outside the scope of this set. But a more fundamental reason may well be that, as Rüdiger Albrecht points out, “during the early post-war period the Berlin Philharmonic’s concerts were broadcast only sporadically, not achieving any real degree of regularity until the 1962 Berlin Festival, when a specific number of broadcasts per season was contractually agreed on.”
The second point, which is more important, I think, concerns consistency in the quality of the performances. Nowadays, we think of Karajan’s BPO as a well-oiled musical machine, but I found it salutary to be reminded that this wasn’t always the case. I think it’s worthwhile quoting from an extensive article by Peter Uehling who has this to say about the period before Karajan formally succeeded Furtwängler in 1955: “This formal signing of the contract had been preceded by a ten-year period of neglect. During the initial post-war period a series of very different conductors with very differing characters had been placed in charge of the orchestra: Leo Borchard and Sergiu Celibidache were replaced within a matter of years by the orchestra’s former principal conductor, Wilhelm Furtwängler, who, now old and broken by years of National Socialist dictatorship, was more interested in composing than in conducting. He brought little of his old energy to the task of rebuilding the orchestra. And so, the players could certainly benefit from a period of regular guidance”. Uehling says that Karajan was quite specific in taking on Furtwängler’s mantle, that a ten-year period of reconstruction would be required. These earliest recordings give us some insight into that challenge and his success in tackling it. I should make it very clear, though, that everything is relative: if in these early recordings any fallibilities are noted these are apparent not because the playing is poor in any way but because one is so used to the ultra-high standards that Karajan later achieved with the BPO.
We start with Beethoven’s ‘Eroica’ Symphony on disc 1. This performance was given on 8 September 1953 in the Titania-Palast in Steglitz, which, I understand was regularly used until September 1954 and occasionally thereafter until April 1956. Rüdiger Albrecht notes that this venue “was always seen as a makeshift solution on account of its dull, bass-heavy acoustics”. In fact, what I found most noticeable on this recording was not so much a heavy bass as a somewhat edgy sound from the violins and trumpets when playing loudly. Karajan drives the first movement forward with no little urgency. The orchestra responds well, though I don’t believe the playing was a polished as one would experience in later years: it wasn’t ‘his’ orchestra at this time; he was a guest. The slow movement is given a searching reading. The finale is characterised by great energy at first, though when the music slows down immediately prior to the slow variations the playing seems a bit scrappy and the passage doesn’t convince. The slow variations are very measured in places – rather too much so for my taste – but the coda offers an exciting ‘dash for the finishing line’. By a pleasing piece of symmetry, this set opens and closes with performances of the ‘Eroica’; the last performance in the collection is a 1969 rendition. I must not tread on the toes of Philip Harrison who, I am sure, will cover this latter version in his review. What I will say, though, is that the 1969 reading is in better sound (as you’d expect) and shows the benefit of a long partnership between conductor and orchestra – that transition from fast music to slow in the finale, for example, is much more convincingly negotiated.
Karajan returned to the BPO in November 1954, a couple of months after Furtwängler’s death, to conduct a programme which included Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis. The performance we hear was given the day after Karajan had led the orchestra in what was the Berlin Philharmonic’s first performance of the work. This time the venue was the Hochschule für Musik. The concert hall in the College of Music in the Hardenbergstraße opened in March 1954, and most of the orchestra’s concerts took place there before the new Philharmonie was opened in October 1963. This pair of concerts in November were Karajan’s first concerts in the venue. In an essay accompanying this set, James Jolly reminds us that Karajan had recorded this work with the Philharmonia for EMI in 1953. Jolly says it had gained “high praise from the British press”; apparently Gramophone’s critic declared it ‘a very good performance’. I can’t recall that I’ve heard the Philharmonia recording – certainly not to listen carefully – but I have reservations about this Berlin reading. It’s well played – the solo quartet is very good indeed – and the two string orchestras are differentiated even though the mono recording is seventy years old. However, I’m not too comfortable with Karajan’s approach to the music, which I can best describe as bracing. He paces the music quite swiftly – disconcertingly so, in fact – and whilst his way with the piece is refreshing in some ways there’s insufficient space given to the music. For once, the clock doesn’t lie. After I’d finished listening to this performance, which plays for 13:15 I looked out some recordings taken at random from my collection. Barbirolli’s famous recording with the Sinfonia of London, Sir Mark Elder’s Hallé performance and Boult’s 1975 EMI version all play for just over 16:00. Karajan offers an interesting, non-traditional view but I think he misses quite a lot. I wasn’t sure if Karajan ever returned to the ‘Tallis’ Fantasia but my colleague, Lee Denham tells me that he did conduct it again, in the 1970s, in the first half of a programme which concluded with Bruckner’s Ninth symphony.
Disc 2 opens with Wagner and a February 1955 reading of the Prelude and Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde. Here, I think, Karajan’s instinctive understanding of the music is shown in a way that was not the case with the Vaughan Williams. The music is beautifully sculpted. Karajan takes care of every phrase, though never in such a way as to disrupt the music’s flow. There’s also passion in the build up to climaxes. I liked this performance. The remainder of the disc is devoted to Mozart and a pair of works recorded immediately prior to a January 1956 concert to mark the composer’s bicentenary. Rüdiger Albrecht explains that the tapes of the concert itself are apparently lost. However, the rehearsal in the Paulus-Gemeinde Zehlendorf was recorded; those tapes survive and are published here. Wilhelm Kempff is the soloist in the D minor Piano Concerto, K 466. The orchestral contribution is “big band” Mozart – and there’s nothing wrong with that. Though there’s deftness in Kempff’s playing, neither he nor Karajan overlook the implications of Mozart’s decision to write this concerto in a dark minor key. I like the elegance Kempff brings to the slow movement, where he gets excellent support from the BPO. I enjoyed this performance of the concerto. I’m less happy with the ‘Jupiter’ symphony, though. Part of that may stem from the recorded sound which is a bit “tubby”, especially in loud passages. (I’d noticed this less in the concerto, perhaps because the solo piano is, quite understandably, in the foreground.) There’s vigour in the way the first movement is played, though I also noted what sound like a few small imprecisions. I feel that Karajan drives the music a bit too much at times. By contrast, the slow movement is taken very broadly. To be honest, I found this performance was rather bland though the recording itself may be responsible in part. The performance didn’t really hold my attention. The Menuetto is somewhat steady: the music is given insufficient lift, I feel; it lacks vitality. No such charge could be levelled against the finale, though. This is an excellent performance which contains plenty of vitality. Karajan leads a spirited rendition of Mozart’s virtuoso finale.
Disc 3 (December 1956) brings us some Richard Strauss and the first of two performances in the set of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth symphony. The Strauss is the aria ‘Es gibt ein Reich, wo alles rein ist’ from Ariadne auf Naxos,in which we hear Elizaberh Schwarzkopf. The orchestral accompaniment is lovely, providing a reminder of how masterly Karajan was in Strauss. Schwarzkopf’s admirers will be glad to have another example of her at work with one of the great Strauss conductors. The rest of the programme is devoted to Tchaikovsky’s Fifth. The first movement is surprisingly steady though there’s ardour in the playing when required. The orchestral plays well though I felt the timpanist’s crescendo-decrescendo at the very end was rather overdone. The slow movement is also rather on the slow side but, my goodness, the performance draws you in. I think that Karajan would have been pleased by the quality of the opening horn solo. The climaxes have real bite and the lead-up to those climaxes display genuine urgency. I like the way the Waltz is shaped. The start of the finale is very broad indeed – it’s almost ponderous – but Karajan soon moves the music on somewhat. Then, when the Allegro vivace is reached (3:21) the performance is urgently paced and has abundant energy. There is a second performance of the symphony, dating from 1969, later in the set which Philip Harrison will appraise. I’ll just content myself by saying that the 1969 stereo sound is better than the 1956 mono sound and that while much of the interpretation is, broadly speaking, consistent between the two performances, in 1969 Karajan shaved nearly a minute off his overall timing for the first movement as compared with the 1956 reading.
Disc 4 contains just one work. The Berlin Philharmonic’s first-ever performance of Prokofiev’s Fifth symphony was given, under Karajan’s direction, on 17 February 1957; two days later they gave this repeat performance, which was broadcast. In passing, I wonder if Karajan had conducted the symphony prior to these Berlin performances. (Karajan and the BPO made a celebrated recording of the work for DG in September 1968 which I still regard as one of the best I’ve heard.) On this occasion, it’s evident at once that Karajan ‘gets’ the music; there’s all the necessary power in the first movement but the lyrical stretches are just as convincingly put across. Unsurprisingly, the internal balances aren’t quite as well managed as would be the case on DG’s later studio recording but nonetheless the present performance is very successful. The BPO brings lots of vitality to the propulsive Scherzo and the lead back from the trio to the scherzo material is nicely judged. If I’m honest, the radio recording doesn’t flatter the orchestra in the slow movement – I’m especially thinking of the long, high-lying violin lines which sound a bit harsh; I’m sure that wasn’t the case in the hall when the performance was given. However, there’s no doubting Karajan’s grip on the music; the bittersweet ending is especially well done. The finale comes off very well; the high spirits needed to project Prokofiev’s music properly are there in abundance and the composer’s gawky humour comes across.
I’m going to skip over disc 5 for the moment and consider instead disc 6 which contains two major works which were paired together in a programme from May 1957. Glenn Gould was the soloist in Beethoven’s C minor Piano Concerto. James Jolly tells us that this was the only time that Gould and Karajan worked together. Famously, in 1962, Gould and Leonard Bernstein gave a performance of the Brahms First Piano Concerto together which was far from a musical meeting of minds (review); here, there’s no audible sign of conflict between Gould and Karajan. Indeed, Jolly relates that Gould was impressed by Karajan and spoke of working with him as “one of the truly indelible musical-dramatic experiences of my life”. The first movement is astutely paced by Karajan; I prefer his approach to the ultra-serious Klemperer in his 1967 recording with Barenboim, which I recently reviewed. Gould’s playing is excellent; he uses Beethoven’s own cadenza. In the slow movement both the solo playing and the orchestral contribution are poised and poetic. There’s plenty of vitality in the finale. Overall, this is an excellent performance of the concerto, which I very much enjoyed.
I was most interested to discover in the documentation that the first Berlin Philharmonic performance of the Sibelius Fifth symphony (2 November 1921) was conducted by Ferruccio Busoni; I wonder how he approached the work. Karajan had recorded the Fifth in 1952 for EMI with the Philharmonia and he made a much later version for the company, this time with the BPO, in 1976. In between, he set down a terrific performance with the BPO, this time for DG, in 1965 (review). This 1957 concert performance is a considerable one, too. The first movement is unfolded in a masterly fashion; one is aware of the evolution and growth in the music. The playing is excellent. When the scherzo-like material arrives, it is delivered in a very light-footed way and the momentum that Karajan builds up is very convincing. He drives the movement to an exciting conclusion. The second movement is much simpler in design; it’s expertly shaped here. The reading of the finale opens with great purpose and energy. I found this performance and interpretation convincing from start to finish. The last few minutes, as the peroration unfolds, are broad and majestic. This is, I think, the best performance to date in the box; it’s also a valuable supplement to Karajan’s studio versions.
Disc 7 contains a programme of three works, dating from September 1959. The concert opens with a performance of Handel’s Concerto grosso in D major, Op. 6 No. 5, a work which Furtwängler introduced to the BPO in 1922. I must confess that my heart sank a little when Karajan began the first movement (Ouverture. Larghetto e staccato). One is conscious at once of a very full and rich orchestral sound with quite a lot of weight in the cello and bass divisions; furthermore, the speed is stately. However, things looked up appreciably thereafter. The following Allegro is sprightly and the remaining movements are well done also. This is Handel playing of its time and very definitely not HIP, but in that context it’s well done. Contemporary music followed in the shape of Rolf Liebermann’s Capriccio for Soprano, Violin and Orchestra, which was first performed in Paris in March 1959 with Igor Markevich conducting the Orchestre des Concerts Lamoureux. The soloists were Irmgard Seefried and her husband, Wolfgang Schneiderhan. What we have in this set is the first performance by the Berlin Philharmonic (just six months after the premiere) with the same soloists but with Karajan on the rostrum. Karajan deserves credit, I think, for programming a new work so soon after its unveiling. Later in the box, on disc 14, there’s another such example: he programmed Richard Rodney Bennett’s 1964 piece, Aubade for Orchestra in 1965. Liebermann’s piece is not without interest though I have to say that I didn’t much take to the episodes of spiky music. However, there are a number of passages of music which are attractively lyrical and these are much more to my taste. Seefried, who is directed to sing wordlessly throughout, and Schneiderhan are excellent soloists. So far as I can tell, given that the work was completely new to me, the orchestral side of things is performed very well indeed. The concert ended with Schumann’s Fourth symphony, Op. 120. The Ziemlich langsam introduction has good tension and then the main body of the first movement (Lebhaft) has pleasing buoyancy. The Romanze is poetically performed. In the Scherzo movement I especially admired the beautiful and very natural flow that Karajan achieves in the Trio and also the way he handles the transition to the finale. That passage is played with a real sense of mystery and growth; the effect is almost Brucknerian. The finale itself is full of vitality. This is a fine performance of the symphony, which I enjoyed very much.
Disc 8 brings us a concert from almost exactly two years later (October 1961). The venue once again is the Hochschule für Musik. I learned from James Jolly’s essay that two of the works played here, the Brahms Fourth symphony and Ravel’s Orchestral Suite No. 2 from Daphnis et Chloé were on the programme when Karajan made his debut with the BPO in April 1938 (on that occasion the other work was Mozart’s Symphony No 33). The Brahms symphony, which presumably opened the concert, receives a splendid performance. In fact, whilst I don’t mean to disparage any of the performances on the previous seven discs, I got the feeling in all three works that here, in 1961, we are experiencing to the full for the first time in this set the Karajan/BPO partnership with which we’re so familiar.
The first movement of the symphony is convincing in every respect; Karajan really puts across the structure of Brahms’ music. The second movement is often delicately shaded and there’s some admirable work from the woodwind soloists and the principal horn. It’s perhaps in the third movement that one is most aware that the orchestra is quite closely balanced, though I hasten to say that the sound is still very good given that it is more than 60 years old. The great passacaglia finale is commanding. At the start of the slower variations the solo flute is excellent and throughout these slower variants the playing and conducting compel attention. Once the music bursts back into full force Karajan builds to a blazing conclusion. The aforementioned principal flute is again in the spotlight during Debussy’s Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune, surely one of Karajan’s signature works. There’s great refinement in this performance. Not only does the flautist impress with sensuous playing but his fellow woodwind soloists and the first horn match him for sensitivity. Karajan lays out Debussy’s music with a fine feel for textures. He also evidences a great understanding of the shape and trajectory of the work; this performance is about much more than just beauty of sound. The reading of Daphnis et Chloé is equally fine. Indeed, I can pay the performance no greater compliment than to say that for once I didn’t miss the choir. In ‘Lever du jour’ the music is built with wonderful control until the full glory of Ravel’s sunlight bursts upon us. In ‘Pantomime’ the solo flautist once again distinguishes himself; the playing is both agile and eloquent while the supporting orchestral detail is marvellously etched in. Finally, ‘Danse générale’ is highly disciplined but very exciting. This is a terrific way to end the concert and the disc.
Disc 9 has a short playing time of just 31:34. There’s just one work, a performance of Bach’s Magnificat in D from March 1963. I’ve been enthusiastic about the previous three discs but I’m afraid I can’t summon up much that is positive to say about this performance. The opening chorus, ‘Magnificat anima mea’, goes quite well. The RIAS Kammerchor are a proficient, medium-sized group who sing well; both the playing and the singing are quite lively. Problems start when we get to the solo numbers. I’m a huge admirer of Christa Ludwig, but ‘Et exsultavit spiritus meus’ is not her finest hour. The speed that Karajan sets is leaden and Ludwig’s very full sound (and occasional use of portamento) is completely out of style. Maria Stader is better in ‘Quia respexit humilitatem’ and she has the support of a very good oboe d’amore player. Karajan adopts a slow speed once again but I can live with that. Walter Berry is the bass and I like his account of ‘Quia fecit mihi magna’. The choral movement ‘Fecit potentiam’ starts off well enough but the last seven bars (marked Adagio) are taken so slowly by Karajan that the music seems never-ending. In the tenor aria ‘Deposuit potentes’, Luigi Alva’s voice has a good ring to it but, unfortunately, his runs lack any clarity; all of them are blurred. The flutes play attractively in ‘Esurientes implevit bonis’ but I’m sorry to say that Ludwig makes a vibrato-laden meal of the aria and Karajan doesn’t help matters by setting an enervating, slow speed. The terzetto ‘Suscepit Israel’ is baffling: the tempo is very slow indeed and Karajan seems to foster an atmosphere of mystery; it sounds like a passage from Parsifal. Others may find more in this Bach performance than I did but all I can say is that I found it completely misconceived. It’s a curiosity and I can’t imagine ever listening to it again.
There are two performances of Beethoven’s Ninth symphony in the portion of this set which has been allotted to me. The first, on disc 5, dates from April 1957. It features a very distinguished solo quartet comprising Elisabeth Grümmer, Marga Höffgen, Ernst Haefliger and Gottlob Frick. The chorus is the Choir of St Hedwig’s Cathedral. The final disc for consideration in this review (Disc 10) preserves a special occasion: a performance of Beethoven’s ‘Choral’ symphony given on 15 October 1963 to open the Philharmonie. As in 1957, Karajan had the benefit of a strong team of soloists: Gundula Janowitz, Sieglinde Wagner, Luigi Alva and Otto Wiener. Once again, the Choir of St Hedwig’s Cathedral was on duty, this time supplemented by the RIAS Kammerchor. The concert is also notable in the context of this set of recordings because it the first one which is offered in stereo.
The 1957 performance is a very good one. Karajan adopts quite a fleet, but not excessive tempo in the first movement; the music-making is purposeful. In the turbulent passage immediately after the main climax (from about 8:00) he obtains urgent, strongly projected playing. The only snag is that the recording is a bit muddy in the bass when the volume is loud and so, as an example, the important cello and bass contributions to this passage are a bit indistinct. The Scherzo is lively. Karajan makes the great slow movement very spacious and eloquent; the BPO strings make a fine showing in this movement. The orchestral introduction to the finale, with its reminiscences of the previous movements, is handled very well; I like the way the famous big tune unfolds easily and naturally. The vocal section is introduced by Gottlob Frick, whose voice and way with the text is hugely imposing. A little later, Ernst Haefliger makes a good job of his jaunty solo. The choir do very well; the men, for example, project ‘Seid umschlungen, Millionen!’ very convincingly. I know from personal experience just how taxing Beethoven’s choral writing is throughout the movement but the St Hedwig’s singers are undaunted. The solo quartet is very good, not least at the slow passage near the end (‘Alle Menschen werden Brüder’) where Elisabeth Grümmer’s silvery soprano is heard to excellent advantage. Karajan drives the symphony to an exciting conclusion, though the 1957 recording can’t quite give the fullest impression of the tumult. This is a very good performance of the ‘Choral’.
However, the 1963 performance is even better. For one thing, the recorded sound is much better, with sharper definition, not least in the bass; that better definition leads also to crisper timpani sound, not least in the Scherzo. I don’t know how much that improvement is down to better audio technology or to what extent the acoustic of the Philharmonie contributed. In addition, I think the playing of the BPO in 1963 was even better than had been the case six years before – for instance, there’s complete and commanding unanimity in the cello/double bass recitatives in the opening pages of the finale. Also, the choral contributions make a greater impact; this is probably due to the improved recording and also to the fact that, compared with 1957, the choir was augmented. As an interpretation, the 1963 account is not radically different to that which we experienced in 1957, nor, as I recall, is it markedly different to Karajan’s excellent studio recording made for DG in November 1962 (review); such consistency is unsurprising. I noted only two differences of any great significance: a marginally more flowing way with the Adagio in 1963 as compared to 1957, and that in the later performance Karajan takes nearly a minute less to play the Scherzo. As for the solo quartet, Otto Wiener, a baritone, sings very well but doesn’t have as much amplitude as Frick in his opening solo. Luigi Alva offers a more ringing tone than Haefliger in the martial tenor solo. And what a treat it is to hear Gundula Janowitz repeat her fine contribution to Karajan’s 1962 recording; she soars gloriously in the ‘Alle Menschen werden Brüder’ episode just before the end. Karajan ensures that the performance ends in a blazing fashion; I bet the performance brought the house down on the night, though we don’t hear any applause on the recording. It’s tempting to think that a sense of occasion hung over this performance. Beethoven and Karajan launched the Philharmonie in a thrilling fashion.
I think I’m leaving this set – at least in terms of writing about it – on the cusp of a new era for the Berlin Philharmonic. In October 1963 they were ensconced in their spanking new concert hall with, I’m sure, better facilities than they had at the Hochschule für Musik and, I strongly suspect, with improved acoustics. Audio techniques were constantly improving as well. Crucially, their full-time partnership with Karajan had been established for eight years and, as these live recordings demonstrate, the musical relationship was developing strongly. I look forward with keen anticipation to hearing the remaining discs in this large boxed set and to reading what Philip Harrison has to say about them.
It seems that audiences were present at the concerts from which the recordings were taken, though Rüdiger Albrecht mentions in his essay that applause was always edited out from the tapes. The audiences at the performances I’ve reviewed were commendably silent. I’ve tried to give some impressions of the recorded sound as I’ve gone on. Inevitably, the recordings from the 1950s have some limitations but overall, the quality is extremely good: the engineers from the radio stations RIAS and Sender Freies Berlin (SFB) knew what they were doing. The remastering of the original recordings has been managed very well indeed; all the SACDs to which I’ve listened for this review have given very successful results.
As ever with a Berliner Philharmoniker release, the standard of documentation is extremely high. The lavish book which accompanies these discs is well illustrated with black-and-white photographs. It contains excellent essays by James Jolly, Peter Uehling and Rüdiger Albrecht, all of which I’ve cited in this review.
Karajan made commercial recordings of the majority of the pieces included in this substantial boxed set. So, it doesn’t fill many gaps in his discography with the BPO, though none of these live performances have been commercially released before. What the set does do, I think, is to chart, though live performances, the relationship between conductor and orchestra over their first decade and a half together. As such, it constitutes a fascinating and valuable musical-historical document. I don’t know if comparable recordings exist subsequent to 1969 but if they do, I hope the Berliner Philharmoniker label will consider issuing at least some of them at a future date.
You can read Philip Harrison’s review of the rest of this set here.
John Quinn
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Contents
SACD 1, Mono:
Concert No. 1
8 September 1953 ꞏTitania-Palast
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Symphony No. 3 in E flat major, Op. 55 “Eroica”
Concert No 2
22 November 1954 ꞏHochschule für Musik
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis
SACD 2, Mono:
Concert No 3
22 February 1955 ꞏHochschule für Musik
Richard Wagner (1813-1883)
Tristan und Isolde – Prelude and Liebestod
Concert No. 4
21 January 1956 ꞏ Paulus-Gemeinde Zehlendorf
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in D minor, K. 466
Wilhelm Kempff, piano
Symphony No. 41 in C major, K. 551 “Jupiter”
SACD 3, Mono:
Concert No 5
10 December 1956 – Hochschule für Musik
Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Ariadne auf Naxos op. 60
Libretto: Hugo von Hofmannsthal (1874 – 1929)
Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, soprano
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
SACD 4, Mono:
Concert No. 6
19 February 1957 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953)
Symphony No. 5 in B flat major, Op. 100
SACD 5, Mono:
Concert No. 7
25 April 1957 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
Ludwig van Beethoven
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
Elisabeth Grümmer, soprano
Marga Höffgen, mezzo-soprano
Ernst Haefliger, tenor
Gottlob Frick, bass
Chor der Sankt Hedwigs-Kathedrale
Karl Forster, chorus master
SACD 6, Mono:
Concert No. 8
25 May 1957 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
Ludwig van Beethoven
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37
Glenn Gould, piano
Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
Symphony No. 5 in E flat major, Op. 82
SACD 7, Mono:
Concert No. 9
20 September 1959 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
George Frideric Handel (1685-1759)
Concerto grosso in D major, Op. 6 No. 5, HWV 323
Rolf Liebermann (1910-1999)
Capriccio for Soprano, Violin and Orchestra
Irmgard Seefried, soprano
Wolfgang Schneiderhan, violin
Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120
SACD 8, Mono:
Concert No 10
10 October 1961 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)
Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98
Claude Debussy (1862-1918)
Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Daphnis et Chloé, Orchestral Suite No. 2
Symphonie chorégraphique on a scenario by Mikhail Fokin
SACD 9, Mono:
Concert No. 11
1 March 1963 ꞏ Hochschule für Musik
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
Magnificat in D major, BWV 243
Maria Stader, soprano
Christa Ludwig, mezzo-soprano
Luigi Alva, tenor
Walter Berry, bass
RIAS Kammerchor
Günther Arndt, chorus master
Edith Picht-Axenfeldt, harpsichord
Helmut Schlövogt, oboe d’amore
Fritz Wesenigk, Herbert Rotzoll, Karl Pfeifer,
piccolo trumpets
SACD 10, Stereo
Concert No. 12
15 October 1963 ꞏ Philharmonie
Ludwig van Beethoven
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
Gundula Janowitz, soprano
Sieglinde Wagner, mezzo-soprano
Luigi Alva, tenor
Otto Wiener, baritone
Chor der Sankt Hedwigs-Kathedrale, RIAS
Kammerchor
Günther Arndt, chorus master
SACD 11, Mono:
Concert No. 13
5 May 1964 ꞏ Philharmonie
Richard Strauss
Concerto for Oboe and Small Orchestra in D major
Lothar Koch, oboe
Four Last Songs
Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, soprano
SACD 12, Mono:
Ein Heldenleben, Op. 40
Concert No 14
25 February 1965 ꞏ Philharmonie
Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Symphony No. 8 in C minor (2nd version)
1. & 2. Movement
SACD 13, Mono:
Anton Bruckner
Symphony No. 8 in C minor (2nd version)
3. & 4. Movement
SACD 14, Mono:
Concert No 15
23 September 1965 ꞏ Philharmonie
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Divertimento in B flat major, K. 287 “Lodron Serenade No. 2”
Richard Rodney Bennett (1936-2012)
Aubade for Orchestra (1964)
Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904)
Symphony No. 9 in E minor, Op. 95 “From the New World”
SACD 15, Mono:
Concert No 16
30 December 1965 ꞏ Philharmonie
Richard Strauss
Also sprach Zarathustra, Symphonic Poem, Op. 30
Don Quixote, Fantastic Variations on a Theme of Knightly Character, Op. 35
Pierre Fournier, cello
Giusto Cappone, viola
SACD 16, Stereo:
Concert No. 17
22 October 1967 ꞏ Philharmonie
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Concerto for 3 Pianos and Orchestra in F major, K. 242
Jörg Demus, Christoph Eschenbach, Herbert von Karajan, piano
SACD 17, Stereo:
Anton Bruckner
Symphony No. 4 in E flat major “Romantic”
(2nd version)
SACD 18, Stereo:
Concert No. 18
1 January 1968 ꞏ Philharmonie
Ludwig van Beethoven
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125
Gundula Janowitz, soprano
Christa Ludwig, mezzo-soprano
Jess Thomas, tenor
Walter Berry, bass
Chor der Deutschen Oper Berlin
Walter Hagen-Groll, chorus master
SACD 19, Mono:
Concert No. 19
28 September 1968 ꞏ Philharmonie
Johannes Brahms
Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98
SACD 20, Mono:
Johannes Brahms
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 2 in B flat major, Op. 83
Géza Anda, piano
SACD 21, Stereo:
Concert No. 20
30 September 1968 ꞏ Philharmonie
Johannes Brahms
Symphony No. 3 in F major, Op. 90
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73
SACD 22, Stereo:
Concert No. 21
5 January 1969 ꞏ Philharmonie
George Frideric Handel
Concerto grosso in C minor, Op. 6 No. 8 HWV 326
György Ligeti (1923-2006)
Atmosphères
Franz Schubert (1797-1828)
Symphony No. 8 in C major, D 944 “The Great”
SACD 23, Mono:
Concert No 22
3 February 1969 ꞏ Philharmonie
Arnold Schönberg (1874-1951)
Variations for Orchestra, Op. 31
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
SACD 24, Stereo:
Concert No 23
21 September 1969 ꞏ Philharmonie
Béla Bartók (1881-1945)
Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta, Sz 106
Ludwig van Beethoven
Symphony No. 3 in E flat major, Op. 55 “Eroica”