In January 2003, I took my first-ever trip to Vienna: a five-day whirlwind that included visits to museums and palaces, beisls and balls. I paid my respects at the Zentralfriedhof, where the graves of Beethoven, Schubert, Mozart, Brahms and Strauss are all clustered together. And, somehow, I made it into both the Vienna Staatsoper and Musikverein, the gilded home of the Vienna Philharmonic. On my very last night, I saw Riccardo Muti – who then was still in charge of La Scala and arguably at the height of his powers – conduct the VPO in a performance of Schubert's 9th symphony (the "Great") that was seared into my memory: grand, majestic, noble, inspiring. I met Muti in the Musikverein's small reception room afterwards, and the Maestro radiated machismo. "Bene," he exhaled as he signed my program with an indecipherable squiggle.
Although Muti has appeared with the Vienna Phil every year since 1971 – a record unmatched by any conductor, living or deceased – I haven't seen them perform together since that concert 22 years ago, save for the streams of December's 200th anniversary performance of Beethoven's 9th and the most recent New Year's Day concert. That drought ended this weekend, when Muti, now 83, joined the orchestra on their annual visit to Carnegie Hall for the first time since 2006, with a trio of concerts that played to this venerable orchestra's strengths even if they didn't necessarily break new ground.
The hall was full on Friday night, buzzing with anticipation as the VPO came out on stage en masse, led by concertmaster Rainer Honeck (brother of Manfred), one of three concertmasters on Vienna's roster. Scanning the ensemble, I saw lots of familiar faces: most looked the same, while others seemed shockingly older, like those college friends you see once a year. I also noticed a few more women among the ranks, but given that the Vienna Phil only started admitting women in 1997, it will be a long time – if ever – before this orchestra achieves the gender parity of the NY Philharmonic, which is now majority female.
After the orchestra finished tuning, Maestro Muti seemed to want to stoke the audience's anticipation even more, making us wait for what felt like an eternity before finally making his entrance. (It's amusing once, off-putting if it happens every time, which it did over the two nights I was there.) Whatever the reason for Muti's late arrival, it wasn't his age: bounding onstage, he exuded the energy and vitality – not to mention hair! – of someone decades younger.
Schubert's symphonies have long a favorite of Muti's, and they featured prominently on the programs here. The 4th ("Tragic") which kicked things off on Friday night, was written when Schubert was only 19. While it has some fine moments – particularly the slow, tender Andante – it noticeably lacked the depth of his later symphonic works – "later" being a relative term for a composer who died at the age of 31. Still, it was impressive to see the commitment Muti and Vienna brought to this youthful work, which gleamed and sparkled in the winds and strings.
The main course came after intermission: Bruckner's mighty 7th symphony. Written in 1883 and lasting over an hour, it contains massive structures, terrifying brass (including four Wagner tubas) and exhilarating crescendos that drop off to nothing before building up again. It is awe-inspiring in almost any performance; when played by the Vienna Philharmonic, the orchestra Bruckner himself most admired (even if the feeling wasn't always mutual), the music takes on an almost religious fervor.
"More than almost any other orchestra," says Daniel Froschauer, first violinist and chairman of the self-governing Vienna Phil, "we can look back on a shared history with (Bruckner) that was borne of the composer's great esteem for the orchestra and had a significant impact on Austrian musical culture."
Muti kept a slow but steady pace throughout, letting the music breathe without being portentous. The VPO responded with extraordinary color and control, exhibiting more than a few moments of wonder: at the end of the titanic first movement, the violins furiously sawed away, finishing with their instruments high above their heads. (Whether this was spontaneous or not, it felt real and in-the-moment.)
By the end of the stirring finale, with the searing brass and oscillating strings raising the hairs on my neck, I could see why the Vienna Phil keeps coming back to Muti. (The VPO famously doesn't have a permanent conductor.) For all of his Maestro leanings, Muti's straightforward, no-nonsense approach scrapes away all the barnacles left by other well-meaning – if misguided – conductors. Anyone lucky enough to lead this historic orchestra would do well to approach them not as a battle of the wills, but as a meeting of the minds.
I had never heard of Alfredo Catalani (1854-1893) before Saturday's concert, but apparently he was a well-regarded opera composer who was a contemporary (and rival) of Puccini's. Muti and the VPO gave a rare performance – this was the Carnegie Hall premiere – of Catalani's dreamlike Contemplazione (1878), which blended Wagnerian chromaticism with bel canto melodies over a dozen or so minutes.
Stravinsky assembled his neo-classical Divertimento (1934) from his ballet Le Baiser de la Fée (The Fairy's Kiss), which itself was based on Tchaikovsky's overtly-Romantic music. With its herky-jerky rhythms and folksy feel, it was much more Petrushka or L'Histoire du Soldat than Firebird. With its pointilistic transparency, especially in the fluttering winds, it was a fascinating exercise through which to put an orchestra more accustomed to Romantic grandeur.
I wish I could say that that the experience of seeing Muti and the Vienna Phil perform Schubert's 9th, which ended Saturday's concert, matched what I heard in Vienna back in 2003. But, compared to my memory of that performance – which, admittedly, might be less-than-reliable after 22 years – this felt overly long and a bit stale, clocking in at well over an hour. Still, Muti worked hard to ensure the proper delivery of Schubert's dynamics, crouching way down when he wanted the orchestra to play pianissimo. And the VPO's playing was precise, with clarion brass and soaring strings that were truly thrilling. Perhaps after the Bruckner and everything else, it was all just too much of a good thing. Maybe, after six decades on the podium, Muti just can't throw the fastball anymore. Or could it be that after coming here each and every March for five decades, we New Yorkers have started to take the immortal Vienna Philharmonic for granted?
Not a chance.
P.S. I didn't go, but the Vienna Phil also performed on Sunday, 3/2, with Muti leading Mozart's "Jupiter" symphony and Dvorak's "New World" symphony, which you can read about here. After, they offered a Strauss encore, “Der Zigeunerbaron” which Muti reportedly dedicated to “love, brotherhood and peace," a reference to the recent self-inflicted turmoil in DC, and bringing to mind Vienna's stormy visit in the wake of Russia's invasion of Ukraine three years ago. Hopefully, things will be happier when they return next year, and for years to come.