A Tale of Two “Fifths” at Davies Symphony Hall

Last night Jaap van Zweden, now in his farewell season with the New York Philharmonic, returned to lead the San Francisco Symphony (SFS) in Davies Symphony Hall. He had made his SFS debut in October of 2012, and his visit is part of a busy schedule of guest appearances interleaved with his work in New York. The program he prepared for SFS could be called “A Tale of Two Fifths.” The entire first half of the program was devoted to what is probably the best known “fifth symphony” in the concert repertoire, Ludwig van Beethoven’s Opus 67 in C minor. The intermission was then followed by Dmitri Shostakovich’s Opus 47, his fifth symphony in D minor.

Both of these are frequently performed compositions. Indeed, Opus 67 has received (and continues to receive) so much exposure that some may think that it borders on cliché. Furthermore, those of us that still watch Public Television probably recall that this season began with the return of the Philharmonic to its renovated hall in Lincoln Center, which was celebrated with the other major Beethoven war horse, his Opus 125 (ninth) choral symphony in D minor. Van Zweden’s meticulous attention to expressive phrasing made it clear from the opening gestures that this performance was not going to be “just another ninth.”

That attention was just as sharp and meticulous last night in his approach to Opus 67. Every gesture provided its own distinctive role in bringing a freshness to even the most familiar motifs. Similarly, van Zweden always found just the right way to balance the individual winds and brass “voices” against the textures of the string section. It is also worth noting that Edward Stephan brought out the “period” timpani to complement the instrumental sonorities, and every beat of the drum had its own way of raising the listener’s eyebrow.

Following the intermission, van Zweden was just as attentive to the details in Shostakovich’s score has he had been in his interpretation of Beethoven. Nevertheless, it was almost impossible to avoid being overshadowed by Opus 67. After all, the Opus 47 was mired in politics, since it involved Shostakovich’s struggle to recover the good graces of Joseph Stalin, who came down on the composer’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk opera like a ton of bricks. After a year of living in disgrace, Shostakovich’s composed what one reviewer called “A Soviet artist’s reply to just criticism.”

There is a certain irony in the fact that music composed explicitly to please Stalin should become popular through much of the Western world. However, I suspect that much of that popularity arises from the same aversion to “sharp edges” that bothered Stalin. During my last few exposures to this symphony, I have begun to wonder how much of the original drafts had to be discarded for the sake of Stalin’s good graces. Furthermore, when it comes to passages, such as the finale, that seem to go beyond good graces into glorification, I find it hard to avoid cringing.

I doubt that Shostakovich ever recovered from his experiences with Stalin, even after Stalin’s death; but there are any number of compositions that follow Opus  47 and rise above the constraints that impeded that fateful fifth symphony.