Alice Tully Hall was rattling under standing ovations this Thursday, courtesy of American Classical Orchestra (ACO's) choice to begin its season with the thunderous clashes of three perennial Beethoven works: the "Lenore Overture No. 3," followed by the Emperor Concerto, and finally, Beethoven's 7th Symphony. Certainly, an "All-Beethoven" opening night marks a decisive start to any season, but with young fortepianist Jiayan Sun leading the Emperor Concerto with a historically informed performance, enthusiasts may never again be as close to the composer's work, as only he conceived it. In general, ACO's dedication to performing their repertoire with a keen historical conscience has sold modern audiences for 16 years on the acoustical merits of centuries past. This Thursday was, of course, no different.
Thomas Crawford, the orchestra's conductor has been leading the ACO in its original form since 1980, and much like Jiayan Sun, has devoted himself recently to uncovering the sounds of the past, a time when more primitive instruments and austere scores left much to the imagination, and more specifically, to the performer. Still, apart from the renown of Thomas Crawford, his orchestra, and the young Jiayan Sun, the real star of the evening was, in many ways, the 1812 piano made by Johann Fritz of Vienna. With the piano still behind stage, Crawford first began the evening with a rousing rendition of the "Lenore Overture No. 3" (to Beethoven's Fidelio), and within minutes proved what a dynamic range his orchestra could command. Starting from meager beginnings, the entire hall was soon erupting under the fortississimos of the overture's heroic theme.
In time for the Emperor Concerto, the piano, with a fine wooden luster that glistened in the stage lights, was rolled onto the stage amid quiet admiration, barely looking a day over 200. Surprisingly, it had a formidable tone that projected quite nicely. With each run splendidly leaping across the hall, the effortless mastery of Jiayan Sun (who is still studying in the doctoral program at Juilliard) captured both the dominance and delicacy of Beethoven's storied playing style---to say nothing of the noble patriotism and heroism that the Emperor Concerto was meant to convey.
A constantly fluctuating rubato on Sun's part kept the solos feeling dynamic, at times even garish... especially for the romp that embodies the first movement. In sharp contrast, Sun's (along with the rest of ACO's) rendition of the second movement (the "Adagio"), was one of the slowest and gentlest renditions I can recall. Perhaps it was slowed down to let the audience bask in the concerto's most expressive passages, or perhaps to let them fully appreciate the timbre of a pre-Romantic instrument. In either case, the choice seemed to blow cool air on an otherwise vivacious piece.
After a quick intermission, the indomitable 7th Symphony was delivered in a traditional, yet flawless manner. The build to the Vivace was slow and tenuous, but it was ushered in as brilliantly as the overture's main theme had been earlier. The second movement (now a two-century-old favorite), was perhaps the most favorable forum for ACO's dynamic range. With each phrase vying for domination, the prior was left to recede in gentle capitulation---a technique that was captured en masse by the talented string players. The only disappointment on the part of this movement was Thomas Crawford's choice to snub tradition and deny his audience its due encore. Regardless, the fourth movement served as a fine finale, infusing as much intensity into its refrains as the period instruments could muster. For an added dose of visual entertainment, it was also where the conductor was at his most animated.
American Classical Orchestra has always been praised for its insistence to feature period instruments, but the presence of the 1812 piano seemed an even rarer event. More important is how ACO managed to summon the character of how audiences would initially have heard these pillar works during their premiere. While the "All-Beethoven" event seemed as true to the scores as could be imagined, Thomas Crawford did admit that despite the orchestra's history, they can never fully know how close they came.
