Benalla & District Inc.

Programme Notes 26th June, 2020

Pyotr Tchaikovsky

Camille Saint-Saens

About Today’s Music Selections

I guess it wasn’t surprising that Beethoven’s symphonies were ranked highly in the recent ABC

Classic FM Beethoven Top 100 survey, with four of his nine symphonies occupying all but one

of the top five spots. It wasn’t rocket science to predict that the ninth would be No. 1. In fact,

if I am allowed a little boast, I actually picked the quinella with the Emperor Concerto coming

in at No. 2. Since I have already earmarked the ninth to wind up our Beethoven 2020 later

on this year and have previously presented the Emperor Concerto, how serendipitous it is that

on the planned MSO schedule of recitals for this month is the work that came in at No.3 –

the 6th Symphony. A recent recording of it by the Vienna Philharmonic will conclude today’s

presentation.

An interesting footnote to this

recording is that up until 1997

women could not audition for the

Vienna Philharmonic. Today, 15

of the Vienna Philharmonic’s 145

permanent members are women,

with four more going through the

statutory transition period to

becoming full members.

But how about this for a bit of

gender inequality: The Vienna

Philharmonic has had a woman

performing regularly with it —

the harpist Anna Lelkes played with them for 26 years, but was not allowed to join formally,

and did not receive full payment, until 1997!!!

Since then one woman has held the position of

concertmaster and in January 2005, Australian

conductor Simone Young became the first woman to

conduct the Vienna Philharmonic. Hence I spent a bit

of visual energy to see how many female members

there were in this performance. I think I spotted two.

You might like to see if you can see any more.

But, regardless, do make sure you enjoy the VSO’s interpretation of this memorable work.

Opening our programme is Bruckner’s fourth symphony. It’s a monumental work occupying

more than an hour to listen to in one sitting. But what else is there better to do while we are

still confined to home (more or less) than tune into glorious music. Here I must apologise to

those who receive these presentations via DVD: because of its length it wasn’t possible to record

the whole work along with the others on a single disc, so regrettably, you are only seeing and

hearing the first movement. Even so, that lasts for twenty minutes. There a number of

recordings of this famous symphony, and I guess the major reason for my choice (the

Staatskapelle Dresden) is the conductor – Herbert Blomstedt. When he recorded this (only a

couple or so years ago) he was 90 years of age.

When an Orchestra Was No Place for a Woman

Simone Young

Interviewed recently (at age 92) he said now all

he has to do is conduct, which is what he likes

best. Since 2005, when he gave up his last music

directorship (of Leipzig’s renowned Gewandhaus

Orchestra), Blomstedt has spent his time on a

rewarding roundelay as guest conductor with

the finest American and European orchestras,

including those in Berlin, Vienna, Chicago,

Cleveland and Philadelphia. He gets to visit,

perform, do his work and be on his way again.

“My life is largely the same”, he told his interviewer, “The only difference is that I don’t have

any responsibility for the orchestra’s well-being. I just have to make sure we play as well as

possible during the week I’m here. I love it. I don’t lecture the players or tell them how they

should sound. I set the framework, and then we learn from each other how the music should

go”. It’s an ideal setup, he claimed. It frees him to keep discovering new works and unearthing

new secrets in the familiar ones.

What inspiration is that to any of us who are tempted to believe that in older age we have no

contribution worth making to the world around us?

A couple of works for cello come between the two symphonies. Tchaikovsky, made famous by

his symphonies, concerti and ballet music , left only one completed major work for cello that

I am aware of – “Variations on a Rococo Theme” (Tchaikovsky did start work on a cello

concerto but died before he could finish it). “Rococo” is a term which perhaps we associate

more readily with furniture and architecture. The word “Rococo” is derived from the French

word rocaille, which denoted the shell-covered rock work that was used to decorate artificial

grottoes. The Rococo period grew out of the Baroque period, but where Baroque style of

architecture is serious, dramatic, and heavy, Rococo, on the other hand is light, airy, and

decorative. And this, I suppose, can be applied to music of the same era. There is something,

maybe, then even Mozartian in the Tchaikovsky work.

Saint-Saens’ Cello Concerto – is a virtuosic showpiece

that positively erupts with unique and imaginative

melodies. Saint-Saëns wrote it in 1872 in the wake of

one of France’s most extraordinary moments in history,

a moment of upheaval and newness and tragedy. In the

few short years before this Concerto, France had

experienced, in short succession, a humiliating defeat at

the hands of the German States in the Franco-Prussian

War, the dissolution of Napoleon III’s somewhat brief

Second Empire, another Parisian revolt, and the setting

up of the short-lived Commune of Paris.

The concerto will be played for us by Argentine-French cellist of Russian origin Sol Gabetta,

of whom it is said that when she performs “she impresses with her captivating interpretations,

her passionate, full-bodied play and her charismatic, conquering personality”.

So…. Make yourself comfortable , and sit back and enjoy.

Anton Bruckner – Symphony No. 4 in E-flat major (WAB 104) “Romantic”.

In February 1881, the Vienna Philharmonic began rehearsing a symphony unlike any they

had ever played before. This expansive work possessed mythic grandeur and ideal beauty,

combining lyrical Schubertian melodies, intense Wagnerian harmonies and thundering, organ-

like climaxes. Though it was Anton Bruckner’s fourth symphony, most of the musicians had

heard little if any of his music.

At age 57, Bruckner was still largely unknown as a composer; the

son of a village schoolteacher, he had become Austria’s best organist

and a professor of harmony and counterpoint at the Vienna

Conservatory after years of tireless work, but his original music was

largely ignored or dismissed by the sophisticated capital’s musical

establishment. After the rehearsal, Bruckner approached the

conductor, Hans Richter, and gave him a coin. Speaking with his

rustic Upper Austrian accent, Bruckner said, “Take this and drink

my health with a glass of beer.” Richter kept the coin on his watch

chain for the rest of his life.

The premiere of his Fourth Symphony with the Vienna Philharmonic proved a major turning

point in Bruckner’s career. Though critics remained divided, the audience responded

enthusiastically, and the musicians of the Philharmonic realized that Bruckner was one of the

major composers of their time. The genesis of this work—considered by many to be his first

symphonic masterpiece—had been difficult for the perfectionist composer; after completing

the first draft in 1874, he revised it thoroughly in 1878, completely rewriting the last two

movements. He rewrote the finale again in 1880, producing the version most frequently heard

today.

THE ROMANTIC SYMPHONY

The subtitle “Romantic” was Bruckner’s own. In this instance, the term (it has many

meanings) refers to the medieval era, as is revealed by the programmatic description Bruckner

left of the symphony’s opening:

“Medieval city—Daybreak—Morning

calls sound from the city towers—the

gates open—On proud horses the

knights burst out into the open, the

magic of nature envelops them—

forest murmurs—bird song—and so

the Romantic picture develops

further…”

Bruckner’s images fit remarkably well with the beginning of the work; above shimmering

tremolo strings, a solo horn plays the dawn theme, a primordial melodic idea from which the

rest of the piece will evolve:

Bruckner in 1886

Developing organically, the music crescendos to

a powerful statement featuring the orchestra’s

brass section—the knights riding out of the city

gates. After a breath, a lyrical new theme

appears in the violins—the magic of nature.

This melody was inspired by the birdsong of the

Kohlmeise, a European cousin of the chickadee.

Though Bruckner was vague about what happened next, the music is very suggestive. The

riding theme makes a thunderous return then fades away as the “forest murmurs” end the

first half of the movement.

The harmonies then darken as the dawn theme builds to a harrowing transformation of the

riding theme. Turned upside-down, this version of the theme wrestles with the original, which

ultimately prevails, leading to a solemn, prayerful chorale for brass. The music becomes softer

and softer until the dawn theme returns, now overlaid with a countermelody in the flute.

After a reprise of the other themes, a sweeping coda based on the dawn theme seems to open

up new vistas.

SERENADE AND HUNT

For a number of commentators, the slow second movement has evoked the atmosphere of a

solemn religious procession (similar to the one depicted by the second movement of

Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony). Bruckner’s own remarks, however, suggest a more secular

source of inspiration. In a letter, he described this movement as “song, prayer, serenade,” and

according to one of the composer’s contemporaries, Bruckner said that “In the second

movement an infatuated youth wants to climb through his sweetheart’s window, but isn’t

allowed in.”

The movement begins with an introspective song without words for cellos in the dark-hued

key of C minor. A prayerful, chorale-like passage for strings then transitions to a long melody

for violas accompanied by lute-like pizzicato strings—presumably the youth’s serenade. The

music gains momentum during a developmental passage, which leads to a reprise of the

opening cello song.

This time, the prayerful, chorale-like

music is replaced by a more

fragmentary transition to the viola

serenade, and the movement’s

extended coda builds to an

emotionally intense climax before

fading away.

Bruckner described the third

movement as a hunting scene, which

fits with the exuberant brass fanfares

that begin it. Bruckner noted that in

the central section “a barrel organ

plays during the midday meal in the

forest.”

GRAND FINALE

Regarding the finale, Bruckner was more mysterious; when asked what inspired it years later,

he rather implausibly claimed to have forgotten. Earlier versions of the movement bear

suggestive markings such as “Regenwetter” (“rainy weather”) or “Volksfest” (“carnival” or

“festival”), but while these discarded versions of the movement share some thematic material

with the 1880 finale, the versions are different enough that it is difficult to say whether

Bruckner’s remarks carry through.

As it stands, the finale forms a dramatic conclusion to this Romantic symphony of knights,

serenades and forest hunts. It instantly creates an air of mystery as the blended tones of

clarinets and a solo horn introduce a falling figure of three notes, a shadowy counterpart to

the dawn theme of the first movement. Becoming faster, this figure crescendos to the dark,

severe main theme of the movement, stated fortissimo by the orchestra. The music then builds

again, this time to the shining return of the dawn theme.

A series of more lyrical, rhapsodic themes ensues, until a final, explosive theme suddenly erupts.

This fades away as the development begins. The mysterious opening motif returns in a new

form as the three notes are turned upside-down: instead of falling, they rise. First the more

lyrical themes are developed, leading to an intense passage based on fragments of the severe

main theme of the movement.

Exhausted, the music collapses, until the

imposing main theme returns in an

extended form. After a dramatic pause,

the lyrical themes are reprised as well,

leading to one of the most masterful codas

in the symphonic repertoire. The falling

and rising forms of the mysterious

opening motif are combined as the music

gradually crescendos. Rising then backing

away, the symphony climaxes with the

return of the dawn theme that began it.

(Acknowledgement: houstonsymphony.org)

As stated earlier in the notes, the recording we hear is by the Staatskapelle Dresden conducted

by Herbert Blomstedt.. The YouTube link is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_-2AluBas8&t=815s

The Staatskapelle Dresden is a German orchestra

based in Dresden, the capital of Saxony. Founded in

1548 by Maurice, Elector of Saxony, it is one of the

world's oldest and highest ranked orchestras. Its

home is the “Semperoper” an opera house dating

back to 1841 although that building was lost in a fire

in 1869. Rebuilt and completed in 1878, it was

extensively damaged by bombing in War II and

reconstructed post war, opening in 1985. Interior of the 1841 Opera House

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – The Rococo Variations for Cello and Orchestra

Opus 33

"Do you know what Rococo means?" Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky

asked Wilhelm Fitzenhagen, professor of cello at the Moscow

Conservatory, and answered himself: "It is a carefree feeling of

well-being," and he sang a melody, which had the rhythm of a

gavotte.

Such was the origin, according to a Tchaikovsky intimate, of the

composition of his Variations on a Rococo Theme. ……..(laphil.com).

Fitzenhagen, to whom the work is dedicated, premiered the work

in Moscow on November 30, 1877. In one of his letters

Tchaikovsky emphasized that Rococo was, to his mind, a pure

style which emerged at the time of Haydn and Mozart, and that

the meaning of the term had deteriorated because of the coloristic

excesses of romantic composers.

“Though one would not infer it from the music, Tchaikovsky wrote his Variations on a Rococo

Theme in grievous depression. His fourth opera, Vakula the Smith, one of the series of works

between the Fourth and Fifth symphonies, had just enjoyed what he called “a brilliant failure”

at the Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg; Sergei Taneyev had reported from Paris that

Jules‑Étienne Pasdeloup had “shamefully bungled” Romeo and Juliet and that the work had

not pleased; and he had learned that in Vienna, Hans Richter had had no success with Romeo

either and that the feared Eduard Hanslick had written one of his most abusive reviews. All

this happened within two weeks at the beginning of December 1876. But Tchaikovsky was

learning to escape depression through work. Though ill, he pursued a project begun a couple

of months earlier (and to be abandoned soon after), an opera based on Othello, and he rapidly

composed the Rococo Variations”.

Fitzenhagen intervened considerably in the shaping of “his” piece, so much so that it be

attributed as being composed by both men. The cellist changed the order of the variations,

omitting one altogether, making other cuts and restitchings as he went, and he is responsible

for much of the detail in the solo part, actually entering his alterations in Tchaikovsky’s

autograph. Tchaikovsky did not explain Fitzenhagen’s role to his publisher, Jürgenson, and the

latter wrote to him: “Horrible Fitzenhagen insists on changing your cello piece. He wants to

“cello” it up and claims you gave him permission.

But Tchaikovsky, in another fit of unsureness

about his own work, yielded authority to his

German-trained friend and acquiesced in

Jürgenson’s publication of the work as recomposed

by Fitzenhagen—with piano in 1878 and in full

score eleven years later. Moreover, in 1887

Tchaikovsky made sure to send his next piece for

cello and orchestra, the Pezzo capriccioso, Opus

62, to Fitzenhagen for vetting.

Wilhelm Fitzenhagen

One can easily argue that Tchaikovsky’s original is better than Fitzenhagen’s recension, yet it

is beyond dispute that Fitzenhagen himself enjoyed immense success with this grateful,

gracious, and charming piece whenever he played it, and so have most of his successors. The

theme, so far as we know, is Tchaikovsky’s own. Its invention and what he builds upon it form

one of his most warm-hearted declarations of love to what he perceived as the lost innocence

of the eighteenth century.

Acknowledgement: Michael Steinberg Programme Notes, San Francisco Symphony Orchestra ….. (sfsymphony.com).

The work itself….;.

After a brief orchestral introduction, Moderato quasi andante (moderate speed, walking pace),

the Rococo theme, in A major, is presented by the cello solo; the tempo is Moderato semplice

(semplice = simple, plain).

There are seven variations in all. The first two, which are marked Tempo del tema, are

ornamental and elegant in style. The third variation, Andante sostenuto (slowly, with the

notes are performed in a sustained manner beyond their normal values), in the key of C

major, is a waltz; the Rococo theme is artfully dislocated, altering the metrical position of the

cadences; in this new guise it assumes the character of a Russian folk song.

The fourth variation, Andante grazioso (slowly gracefully), is a courtly gavotte in the French

manner.

In the fifth variation, Allegro moderato (moderately fast), the flute recapitulates the melody

in its original form.

An elaborate and effective cadenza, appended to this

variation, is not found in Tchaikovsky's original manuscript; it

was probably added by the German cellist Hugo Becker, who

often played the work.

The sixth variation, Andante, in a minor key, has the air of a

Russian elegy. The final, seventh variation, Allegro vivace

(lively and fast), brings the suite to a brilliant conclusion, in a

fine succession of A-major chords. (Acknowledgement laphil.com).

Our Performance is by the cellist Mischa Maisky (pictured) with the Frankfurt Radio Symphony

Orchestra conducted by Paavo Järvi. The YouTube link is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygkRtPsgnf4&t=525s

Camille Saint-Saens - Concerto No. 1 for Cello and Orchestra in A minor,

Op. 33 “A Cut Above the Rest”

Context

Composed for cellist Auguste Tolbecque in 1872, Camille Saint-Saëns’

First Cello Concerto is still regarded as one of the most successful of its

kind. During a time where instruments such as the piano and violin were

often centre stage at concerts, Tolbecque was promoting the cello through

his work as an educator and virtuoso. The concerto was premiered in

January 1873 in Paris, and the success from this work enhanced Saint-

Saëns’ reputation for the rest of his life. Auguste Tolbecque

The Music

Saint-Saëns broke some classical conventions with this concerto, with the

main being the structure. Traditionally, a concerto is in three separate

movements. Although there are three movements, Saint-Saëns

structured the work in one long continuous movement. The three sections

are interlinked through harmony and melody.

Movement I: Allegro non troppo (Fast, but not too fast)

Instead of opening with a long orchestral introduction, Saint-Saëns opens the concerto with

a stab chord from the orchestra, with the cello then taking over and proclaiming the opening

theme. Based on intricate triplet movement, the soloist’s melodic lines are thrilling, enchanting

and carefully woven into the fabric of the orchestra.

Slowly introducing countermelodies and shifts in harmony, Saint-Saëns carefully sets up a

dialogue between the soloist and the orchestra who end up playfully communicating in a call

and answer set up. Although much of the material is shared with the orchestra, the drama

and atmosphere created by the composer still keeps the cellist firmly centre stage.

Movement II: Allegretto con moto (Slower than allegro – with movement)

The rather brief second movement is a

standard, but unique, minuet. Saint-Saëns

biographer Stephen Studd comments on the

composer’s use of the cello: “His feeling for

the cello, with its deep, dark tone and

capacity for both dignified and impassioned utterance, was now rekindled by the melancholy

that set in after a family bereavement.” Motifs from this movement highlight the cello is

varying lights, which corresponds with Studd’s above comments.

This enchanting middle movement is further enhanced by the muted string accompaniment,

whilst the sweet minuet sits on top. The cello plays in its upper register throughout, which

creates that sense of yearning from the soloist. An impressive cadenza for the soloist is then

played before the reminiscent finale movement takes hold.

Movement III: Tempo primo (First or original tempo)

The fast and fiery finale section highlights Saint-Saëns’

flair for orchestration. With a restatement of the

opening material from the first movement, the rest of

the movement is largely used as a recapitulation of

earlier movements. The cello reconsiders earlier themes

through a highly virtuosic lens. Everything is now

enhanced and twice as intense. The depths that Saint-

Saëns goes to to create this movement is one of the

many reasons why it has remained so popular today. Auditorium Copenhagen Concert Hall

After tying up all these melodic loose ends throughout this movement, Saint-Saëns makes the

ingenious choice to complete this iconic concerto with a ‘coda’ section of completely new

musical ideas for the soloist. The pace quickens even more before the orchestra then steers the

music from a mysterious A minor to A major, then the soloist takes over for a flourishing

conclusion to this iconic concerto.

Final Thoughts

Saint-Saëns uses the cello as a strong declamatory instrument

throughout. Always at the heart of this concerto, the cello goes

through various trials and tribulations before flourishing into

a brilliante finish. Saint-Saëns’ First Cello Concerto has

remained popular in the cello repertory, despite its difficulty

level. It’s certainly a work for virtuosi performers, although

the real beauty of this work comes from the raw passion from

Saint-Saëns’ pen.

(Acknowledgement: classicalexburns.com - published by Alex Burns on 1st June, 2019).

Sol Gabetta is accompanied by the Danish Radio Symphony Orchestra directed by British

conductor Paul McCreesh in a recent concert from the Copenhagen Concert Hall.

The YouTube link is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3Xrn-igcog&t=440s

John Eliot Gardner, who this

year has given concert

performances of all the nine

symphonies of Beethoven said in

an interview between concerts:

“Beethoven was the first composer of symphonies who was addressing a public audience, as

opposed to a court audience or an aristocratic audience. And he decided that not the piano

sonata, not the string quartet, not any of the other forms was to be his arena. The symphony

was to be his arena for dealing with highly charged, important philosophical and political

issues. You have to remember that he was composing in Vienna, which was the most

conservative society that's existed, until Donald Trump's America. He was writing subversive,

radical music that was not totally appreciated by the audiences of the time — nor even by

the orchestras, who were sight reading them on very little rehearsal.

The Fifth Symphony [is] a bold polemical statement espousing the values of equality, fraternity

and liberty that came from the French Revolution. Actually, the famous opening, the knocking

on the door, is a quotation from a French Revolutionary hymn by Cherubini called "Hymn du

Panthéon." The derivation of that rhythm and the words, which of course are not spoken,

contain a message which, had it been made explicit by Beethoven, would have landed him in

the deepest possible water. It's based on a text which goes "We swear, sword in hand, to defend

and fight for the Republic and for the rights of man." That's pretty outspoken”.

What’s this got to do with the 6th Symphony? The interesting connection is that the 5th and

6th were written at the same time and premiered at the same concert in December 1808. In

many ways, it is a walk down the sunny side of the same street. Bright and relaxed, where

the Fifth is dark and driven. A writer for “The Guardian” in 2014 claimed:

“The realisation that Beethoven was composing both symphonies at the same time is

simultaneously baffling and astounding – and it’s proof that there ain’t just one Beethoven.

On one hand, there’s the scowling man-of-the-people fomenting musical revolution and

purging his inner demons through proto-minimalist compression and white-hot energy (that’s

the Fifth, by the way!), and on the other, there’s the composer content to luxuriate in an early

kind of musique concrète by transcribing birdsong into a symphony, who has time to allow his

imagination to flow and fly, apparently unfettered by the constraints of formal convention or

symphonic concision (that’s the Pastoral). They’re both wildly different, but they’re still only

two sides of the nine-sided coin that is Beethoven’s symphonies”.

But, then, is it not an equally radical composition

in another way?

A notice on the MSO website states: “In June, the

MSO will participate in an international project to

raise awareness and inspire our city to take a

stance on climate change. And there is nothing

more evocative of the beauty and fragility of the

natural world, than Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6,

affectionately known as the Pastoral.

For Beethoven, nature was a place of relaxation, solitude and inspiration. Today, nature is

under threat and humankind is on a course to damage our environment beyond repair.

Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony musically depicts the harmonious unity between mankind and

nature this special project seeks to champion worldwide”.

Maybe it’s drawing a longish bow, but is there this kind of social expression in the Sixth?

But back to the work itself: Beethoven gave titles only to two of his symphonies: the third

“Eroica” or “Heroic” and the sixth “Pastoral”. It is also the only time in Beethoven’s symphonic

career that he wrote any “programme notes.” At the premiere of his Sixth Symphony on

December 22, 1808, at the Theatre an der Wein, in the printed programme that evening,

this guide appeared:

“Pastoral Symphony, more an expression of feeling than painting. First piece: pleasant feelings,

which awaken in men on arriving in the countryside. Second piece: scene by the brook. Third

piece: merry gathering of country people, interrupted by the fourth piece: thunder and storm,

which breaks into the fifth piece: salutary feelings combined with thanks to the Deity.”

Programme notes for a performance of the 6th by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra indicate

that “Although Beethoven wasn’t by nature a man of words (spelling and punctuation led a

perilous existence in his hands), he normally said what he meant. We must then take him at

his word, believing that he had good reason (for the only time in his career) to preface his

music with a few well-chosen words and that curious disclaimer “more an expression of feeling

than painting.” Perhaps Beethoven was anticipating the controversy to follow, for in 1808,

symphonies weren’t supposed to depict postcard scenes or bad weather….. (cso.org).

While in many ways an urban man, known and revered in Vienna, and central to the city’s

reputation within European culture at the time, yet Beethoven, as the five descriptively titled

sections of this piece so amply prove, also had a joyous view of the countryside and all it

contains. The work is one of the first real examples of what became known as 'programme

music': music that tells a specific story or paints an aural picture of a particular scene - just

one of the many ways in which Beethoven was a ground-breaking composer.

We are fortunate that Beethoven gave titles not only to the symphony itself but to each of

the movements as well. Because some movements begin without a break between, the times

into the recording for the approximate start of each movement are:

2nd - 13mins 7 secs; 3rd- 26 mins 45 secs; 4th- 32 mins 15 secs; 5th- 36 mins 3 secs.

The first movement -

“Awakening of Cheerful

Feelings on Arrival in the

Country” - is followed by

another long movement -

“Scene by the Brook”: It

includes the famous

birdcalls: flute for the

nightingale, oboe for the

quail, and two clarinets

for the cuckoo).

The third movement is about the people on the

land and their folklore - “The Merry Gathering

of Country Folk” - therefore it should feel

rustic. Their dancing is interrupted by a

“Thunderstrom”. The Storm which approaches

from afar as ominous rumblings give way to

the full fury of thunder and lightning.

Just as the storm had approached gradually, so it

passes, leaving some scattered moments of disruption

before the “Shepherds’ Song - Happy and Thankful

Feelings after the Storm" brings the work to its close.

What makes the piece so special is that it is a relief from everyday life, an expedition and

escape into the countryside or the woods. So what better therapy is there for these constricted

times than to sit back, relax, and enjoy this symphony once more (for I’m sure you’ve listened

to it many time before), as the members of the Vienna Philharmonic ‘strut their stuff” under

the baton of Christian Thielemann. The YouTube link is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23VcuR55_j4