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Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 1-9 Classica, Import

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Amazon.com: 3.3 su 5 stelle 3 recensioni
4 di 5 persone hanno trovato utile la seguente recensione
5.0 su 5 stelle Beautiful sound and video 1 luglio 2016
Di Jeffery A. - Pubblicato su Amazon.com
Formato: Audio CD
I had heard mixed reviews of this set, but I am greatly impressed. No, this is not old-school Big Band Beethoven.
These performances follow the new Beethoven Edition by Jonathan Del Mar.
Though Simon Rattle is leaving, these performances show just how great the
Berliners sound with his tenure (and how well they listen to each other). The recorded HD Audio is one of the best I've heard.
Excellent video, also (Berlin Phil Media really has this down).
The interpretations give you Beethoven brisk and exciting, yet translucent. Not every idea
might work, but the overall survey of the 9 is well thought out. The interviews with Rattle and the
orchestra are very interesting. I'm very happy to have splurged on this box.
7 di 12 persone hanno trovato utile la seguente recensione
4.0 su 5 stelle amazingly coherent as a whole and beautifully beyond belief in solo parts 21 maggio 2016
Di Ukrainian - Pubblicato su Amazon.com
Formato: Audio CD
Orchestra plays exceptionally well, amazingly coherent as a whole and beautifully beyond belief in solo parts. If the word luxurious would apply to musicianship this is the case. Sir Simon gives direction which steps clear from massiveness of cycles popular in the past and eccentricity of some current HIP readings. Silky and weightless but never coarse, more peaceful than provoking this is the cycle from happy people for happy people. Is this cycle ultimately good? No. Good forbid to live up to one...)
23 di 51 persone hanno trovato utile la seguente recensione
1.0 su 5 stelle The Dead-End of a Blind-Gut 13 maggio 2016
Di Bernard Michael O'Hanlon - Pubblicato su Amazon.com
Formato: Audio CD
In light of his uneasy, half-baked relationship with the Austro-German canon, I likened Simon Rattle to a boy-emperor of Rome where it’s a titular office and not much more. The release of his second Beethoven cycle makes me wonder if I got it wrong: should he not be assigned to the back-end of Egypt’s New Kingdom where pharaohs of little repute eked out a reign of sorts, dwarfed by monuments of Empire which they are unable to emulate, where the ability to read sacred hieroglyphs has been lost?

Abbado, in his own limp way, is the plumbline. He recorded two Beethoven cycles with the Berlin Phil where the first was so bland that it was removed from market. In way of a comparison, what can one say? This: when one makes Uncle Claudio look good in this domain, is it not time to junk the pretence of liking the Austro-German canon to hammer out more Adès? This is the sum of all fears. A slimmed-down Berlin Phil – sounding alarmingly like the Chamber Orchestra of Europe – gallops through these masterpieces in a variant of Jeggy’s Festival of Brisk Efficiency. Across it, I cannot remember an instance where Rattle vents gnosis: it’s all aboard the unthinking, near-metronomic express to Old Kent Road where light-rail is the means of conduit. Menace and violence are absent per se. Conviction is lacking too.

Speaking of which, I cannot recall a more hollow, blander Eroica from a headline act that should, on paper at least, be capable of . . . . something. This is not a funeral games to celebrate the life and death of a hero: it’s akin to window-cleaning. The Rite of Spring and Beethoven have a commonality: orgiastic energy. You will not find an iota of it in the Seventh Symphony: at a fundamental level, it’s too petrified of itself to dance. The Fourth is devoid of rustic bite – if Uncle Otto were around, he would wipe his shoes on this nicety after walking through a dog-infested back-yard: god knows it needs earthiness. If the Allies had broadcast this version of the Fifth into Nazi-occupied Europe, despair would’ve ensued. Indeed: when the Berlin Phil is all bark and no bite in this iconic work, the reaping is upon us - for that we must thank Rattle’s predecessor and Zeitgeist in general; it’s no longer hardwired to the canon. The Sixth certainly offers a panorama of sorts – one generated by Samsung Virtual Reality Goggles: no pantheism is in frame and in all fairness, Sir Simon was never the man to deliver a payload of metaphysics. The worst performance here is undoubtedly the Eighth. Don’t purchase this cycle until you’ve heard it. Who can say whether it is more lethargic than perfunctory? It’s probably an alloy of both to its unending shame. Assuredly, it has no cojones to its name; it hits off from the ladies’ tee and even then, does not go very far. Half-punches are the hallmark of the Ninth – Rattle is so focused on flagging his allegiance to hyper-orthodoxy that he fails to distinguish himself from the maddening, Zinman-ite crowd. A penny-bunger goes off at 8’09” in the first movement – silly me, I once regarded this as a clash of tectonic plates. As a bonus, there’s a nice sing-a-long in the finale. Who can doubt that it’ll serve as a beacon of hope in a world so marred by injustice and slavery . . . .

Reader, if you want a safe, neutered, scared-of-itself, politically correct Beethoven who puts the toilet-seat down and drinks lite-beer, this cycle if for you. As chickens roost, it’s near-pointless to refer to the greatness of yesteryear when the Berlin Phil was the Legion Vast. The ring is broken. In the shadow of the Man Perm, the rest is vacuity.

Louis-Philippe purchased Delacriox’s ‘Liberty leading the People’ and then hid it away from fear it would incite insurrection. Beethoven is just as revolutionary an artist – but not here: the last of the French kings would dispense this to the public like lolly-water. Rameses Rattle, Lord of Sand, return to your low-emissions chariot! Make haste for Londinium where adulation and garlands await you in triumph!


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