The Wanderer in Italy

One of us was able to follow the Berlin Philharmonic through Italy...
he tells his tale



The Wanderer had the incredible and unique luck to be able to follow the last tour undertaken by Claudio Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic. This took him to Palermo, Naples, Florence, Ferrara, Brescia, Turin and finally on to Vienna. It enabled him not only to hear excellent concerts, but also to see many beautiful and interesting parts of Italy. Needless to say this was a journey he will never forget in his life.

What a gorgeous welcome in Palermo! The town is full of busy people, of impulse and gives the impression as if it were coming to life once again after a long period of inertia. The Teatro Massimo, which the Berlin Philharmonic opened up again 5 years ago, is shining in the bright sunlight and belies any tales of Southern disorganization. The dress rehearsal is really a proper concert and with a full house to spur them on this performance is already a triumph. Abbado is relaxed, but at the same time extemely concentrated. He gives the impression of being relieved that he can leave behind him the official adieux in Berlin and concentrate on music and nothing but that. He has often said how much he likes being in Palermo and has reminded us that his mother was of Sicilian origins. The atmosphere is so convivial that evening that many in the audience regret that this is not the concert which will be broadcast on television. But this time they are in the wrong: the concert the next morning will be at least as good, if not even better. Orchester, conductor, audience – all are exhilarated and everything turns out miraculously. Impossible to know what to praise more. The programme (Beethoven: Egmont-Ouverture; Brahms: Violin Concerto; Dvorak: Symphony No. 9, From the New World and Verdi?s Ouverture ?Vespri Siciliani? as an encore) is stimulating and the visible joy of all to be playing together, the famous zusammen musizieren, is passed on to all in the theatre and (the Wanderer was able to ascertain later) to those in front of the television set.

The next stop is Naples, where Waltraud Meier joins the orchestra. Many a times the Wanderer has been told how beautiful the Teatro San Carlo is and now he can join in the praise. But the programme is difficult (Mahler: Rückert-Lieder + 7th Symphony) and although played in a stunning way it is noticeable that the audience is not used to such fare.

So it is on to Florence and here too you get the impression that the audience is not quite used to this sort of concert. Although the Rückert-Lieder are very moving a spectator cannot restrain himself (we are in Italy, do not forget) and starts applauding hardly has the last note of ?Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen...? been played, whereas we are used to long silences. Dismay amongst the orchestra, its conductor and part of the audience. The atmosphere changes from one minute to the next. Schönberg?s ?Pelléas et Mélisande?, given after the interlude, suffers from this still.

Luckily enough the next town is Ferrara where Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic are ?at home?, so to speak. Same programme, but a completely different atmosphere, which only goes to show that you can very well train an audience. The Rückert-Lieder profit from an extremely intense reading, the emotion is great and the silence after the last song seems endless. Excluding Berlin these Lieder have never sounded more moving. Same for the Pelléas. The orchestra plays as if its life depended on it. Kindled by an impassioned conductor the intense feelings, the suffering, joy, fright, grief and all the other emotions engendered by this piece are reflected in each musician and lead to an unbelievable interpretation. Once again, thanks be to God, the audience is perfectly quiet, conscious of the fact that they have just witnessed a great evening.

The Teatro Grande which awaits the Wanderer in Brescia is lovely but not as big as its name might make you believe. The orchestra has difficulty assembling on the stage all the musicians needed for Mahler?s 7th symphony. Nevertheless they play this work with much ardour. Nothing will ever equal the performance on May 6th 2001 in Berlin, but this too was a great evening that will go down in history.

Which brings us to Turin, the last stop in Italy and as such one with a special signification. The orchestra and Abbado have often played here and given many a memorable concert. Although the Wanderer knows that the orchestra is pleased to play in a concert hall again, which gives them more room on the stage, he misses the atmosphere and the beauty of these old Italian theatres. The Wanderer regrets to say that he found the atmosphere in the Lingotto cold and that he did not much appreciate the acoustics either. For the first time unluckily both the Rückert-Lieder and the Mahler symphony failed to move him – something he would have normally ruled out completely. He thinks that the house is more to blame than the orchestra, but it is regrettable nevertheless. It is on this sad note that the Wanderer takes leave of Italy.

He arrives in Vienna full of mixed feelings. For over a year he has been asking himself how he will survive these two evenings. The harmony between the orchestra and its director, the understanding, admiration, love even, have never been so great. And in this atmosphere they must take leave of one another. ?Partir, c?est mourir un peu...? Words cannot express what the Wanderer felt during these two concerts in the Goldener Saal of the Musikverein. Can words be found for concerts where feelings dominated everything, including what he heard? He thinks he has heard better concerts than these, talking of the purely technical point of view, but is he sure? What is absolutely sure is that he has never, of living memory, heard anything so highly emotional or deeply moving. These concerts will for ever be engraved in his heart. Happy those who were able to be there those two evenings. Stendhal?s famous ?happy few?...
Let us try, nevertheless, to comment more or less lucidly: the Rückert-Lieder need some time before the right atmosphere is found, but the ?Ich bin der Welt...? is memorable. The audience at the end refrains from applauding but considering the fact that we are in Vienna it makes much too much noise! As for ? Pelléas et Mélisande?: words just fail the Wanderer. Out of this world...Many in the audience and amongst the musicians have tears in their eyes.
Contrary to expectations the very last evening is more serene than the one before. Once again the Wanderer finds himself in the position of being absolutely incapable of describing the slightest thing, except perhaps that he had the impression that some musicians were so moved too that some small faults slipped in. Technical perfection was overrun by human feeling. It was moving too that some senior members of the orchestras took rank-and-file positions just to be on the stage that evening.
And so an unique association draws to its close. The Wanderer?s heart is full to the brim – and full of contradictory feelings. On the one hand he is extremely grateful for all the magnificent concerts he was allowed to hear, on the other he is very sad. It only remains for him to thank Claudio Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic from the bottom of his heart for the many hours of gorgeous music they gave him over the past years and to say au revoir until January 2004.