Entering the World of Anton Bruckner via Symphony No.5
TAIPEI, Taiwan — I rarely write about music since I don’t consider myself as an expert in this subject. But on July 1st, I had a remarkable experience at the National Concert Hall, listening to Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.5 performed by the Taiwan Philharmonic, also known as the National Symphony Orchestra (NSO)
In the week that preceded this special evening, I visited the National Concert Hall twice: first time it was for a sharing by conductor Lü Shao-Chia on the music of Anton Bruckner; second time was to attend one of the concert’s rehearsals.
Getting to know Anton Bruckner
I must admit that, before reserving my ticket, I have never heard of Anton Bruckner (1824–1896). Thanks to a series of program organised in conjunction with the concert, I was able to learn more about this Austrian composer and, if I must say, this fascinating world that he’s created with his music.
About a week before the performance, on June 25th, I spent my Saturday afternoon at the National Concert Hall for a lecture that only ticket holders of the performance could attend. This lecture was organised by the Nightingale Foundation, an organisation that aims to promote Western classical music in Taiwan.
As the host of this lecture, Yi-chang Zan, Chief Executive Officer of the Nightingale Foundation, sat down with Lü Shao-chia — renowned Conductor Emeritus of the Taiwan Philharmonic — to exchange their thoughts on Anton Bruckner and his music
When asked how it felt like when conducting Bruckner’s music, in comparison to those by other composers, Lü replied that he always felt small in the face of Bruckner’s grand symphony. He was particularly drawn to the music’s cosmic scale and how, once he enters that world constructed by Bruckner, both time and space seem to have dissolved.
While everyone experience Bruckner’s music differently, both Zan and Lü agreed that the composer has expanded the concept of symphony in ways that have never been done before — and Bruckner was perhaps the first to do so after Mozart. In fact, it is said that Bruckner paid tribute to Mozart in the last movement of Symphony No.5 by repeating the themes from the previous movements.
Attending an orchestra rehearsal
In conjunction with the concert, Taiwan Philharmonic made a special arrangement that allowed a limited number (80 max.) of ticket holders to attend one of their rehearsals — held two days before the performance on a weekday morning. I was fortunate to be one of the lucky ones.
It was my first time visiting the National Concert Hall during morning hours (the place usually opens at noon). Before attending this rehearsal, my ignorance led me to believe that what conductors do is simply waving their baton in front of the orchestra — a scene that always reminded me of the power-possessed Mickey Mouse in Fantasia (1940) who could magically transform the things around him at his fingertip.
After the first 20 minutes, it became clear to me that the conductor is crucial in leading the orchestra in refining the music being played. But what I didn’t expect was the number of pauses during a rehearsal. There seemed to be an invisible gap between what the musicians played in comparison to the kind of music that the conductor expected to hear. Each pause called out by the conductor showed his attempt to close that gap, like how a gemstone cutter tires to polish the various facets of a diamond until it’s perfect.
Admittedly, I was not familiar with the composition of Bruckner’s Symphony No.5 when I attended the rehearsal. But by comparing the before and after of the same movement, I was able to spot how little adjustment on the dynamics, tempos and the moods of the music can make a huge difference in the outcome. As I’ve come to understand, the music performed by the orchestra is a collective manifestation of how the conductor and the musicians interpret the piece.
The rehearsal lasted for about three hours with a 20-minute break in between, similar to the routine of watching a performance. In my view, what made this behind-the-scene experience special was that those in the audience were able to have a glimpse of what the ‘original’ music was like before it was refined, testifying to the saying that “devil is in the details”.
Having immersed in the world of Bruckner’s music in the past week, I was surprised to find myself taken onto a journey of a rather surreal world of Bruckner on the night of the concert.
The Big Day
An hour before the performance began, there was already a queue waiting to get into the National Concert Hall. As soon as the door was opened, audiences find their ways to the the lobby, waiting for the pre-performance lecture to begin. The speaker for this lecture was led by Taiwan Philharmonic’s Associate Conductor Su-han Yang, whom I remember seeing during the rehearsal.
To begin with, Yang commented that, in his view, Bruckner is perhaps the laziest composer that he’s ever come across. Reasons being that the movements in Symphony No.5 — first and forth, and second and third — begin in more or less the same way.
But as the symphony unfolds, we see how brilliant Bruckner was in creating variations of the same theme, and using different musical instruments to create different textures or, more abstractly speaking, concept of time and space.
The performance on Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.5 lasted for about 90 minutes, with no intermission. Though I’ve listened to the piece online over and over again before this performance, I have to admit that listening to it live is a completely different experience.
While listening to the orchestra performing, I paid special attention to the interaction between various musical instruments, and I was drawn towards Bruckner’s ability in crafting a symphony of this scale using entertaining repetition.
Out of the four movements, my personal favourite was the third, during which I developed a kaleidoscopic imagery of blooming gardens and flowing water, coupled with the sounds of birds chirping, in my mind. This illusionary utopia ended as soon as the last movement came in, when I was struck by the unexpected goosebumps I felt all over me.
It was then when I finally realised what conductor Lü meant when he remarked how small he felt when conducting Bruckner’s cosmic-scale music. Throughout the performance, I unknowingly entered a liminal state where time strangely became irrelevant.
For some unknown reasons, the final movement gave me the illusion as if I were in outer space looking back at our planet Earth among a galaxy of stars. Every single notes flowed perfectly, as natural as the planetary motion of celestial bodies in the universe. In that moment, I felt like I was empowered through this special reconnection with the Source.
If I were to use three words to describe Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.5, they are sophisticated, puissant and transcendental.