Endorsement #1: Bruckner, Symphony No. 8 as recorded by Celibidache/Munich in 1993

I know a lot of people who think Bruckner’s music is boring. It’s hard to disagree with them–after all, that’s part of the appeal.

With that in mind, it seems somewhat antithetical to endorse the slowest, longest recording of a Bruckner symphony. If you want to spend 107 minutes listening to a recording of an exciting piece of music, you will be much better served with any good recording of Elektra (or adding a few extra minutes and choosing a good Tosca). Even if you wanted to listen to a more “exciting” recording of Bruckner 8, there are other options; the CSO/Solti performance recorded in the 1990 tour is more than a half hour shorter and is an excellent recording of the piece. It doesn’t seem to me like Celibidache makes any attempt to make the piece sound exciting.

What Celibidache does is to bring out the idiosyncratic elements of this piece, rather than trying to turn it into something it’s not. Funnily enough, this results in a performance that is totally unlike most. Where most performances turn into aggressive, brassy affairs, Celibidache’s maintains the nobility and lyricism that is an essential characteristic of Bruckner’s music: the rests are treated with the necessary reverence rather than skipped over to get to the next bit; the “background” figures are always audible and played with great expression (see the first couple bars of the third movement for an excellent example); the dissonant harmonies are both weighty and transparent; and perhaps most importantly of all, every line has clear direction. I think the most important aspect of this performance, though, is the prevailing sense of calm. It is obvious in the way that Bruckner writes (especially in the way he incorporates rests into the music, like in the third symphony) that this music was made to be played in a resonant space like a cathedral and given time for that resonance to breathe. Not a single note in this performance feels shortened or rushed through, so the long time horizon over which this piece unfolds can actually create the proper meditative effect. Perhaps it is a little reductive to call this “boring”, but in my experience it certainly requires the right mindset to listen to. I find that it is impossible for me to truly engage with Bruckner’s music without adopting the calm, unhurried demeanor that pervades it.

I’ve recommended Celibidache to many low brass players who are looking for great performances of Bruckner (and not just the eighth symphony). The modal response among them has been to notice how adeptly he handles the strings and woodwinds, and how unusually expressive the brass’ lines are. Yes, the sound occasionally gets loud and intense, but it is always kept in proportion to the scale of the piece. To those who aren’t familiar with the Bruckner discography, this might sound a little strange, given that everything I’ve described above seems like it should be the baseline for any performance of any piece. If I had to undertake a little bit of unfounded speculation, I would suggest that most conductors and orchestras see Bruckner as slow and boring, and try to compensate for this by giving listeners something “exciting” to latch on to by putting a big flashing sign saying “this is the climax here” in certain places, and by trying to get to those places in a hurry. With Celibidache, there is no attempt to compensate for any perceived flaws because it is clear in this performance that Bruckner’s music works just fine when it is performed as-is.