From Strings to the Stars: Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.6 and Beyond

From Felix Mendelssohn’s violin concerto to Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.6, conductor Eliahu Inbal takes us on a journey through the cosmos of emotions, guiding us from the intimate strings to the vast, symphonic expanse that defines Bruckner’s vision.

Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆

Eliahu Inbal, Conductor Laureate of the Taipei Symphony Orchestra. Image courtesy of the Taipei Symphony Orchestra.

TAIPEI, Taiwan — The first time I learned about Anton Bruckner (1824-1896) was back in the summer of 2022, through the Austrian composer’s Symphony No.5 performed by the Taiwan Philharmonic, locally known as the National Symphony Orchestra (NSO). Under the baton of Lü Shao-chia, Conductor Emeritus of the orchestra, I experienced the immense cosmos that Bruckner is known to create. The grandeur of his musical vision made my presence feel insignificantly small.

Today, two years later, I had the opportunity to witness another live performance of Anton Bruckner’s work. This time, it was his Symphony No.6, performed by the Taipei Symphony Orchestra (TSO) under the direction of Israeli conductor Eliahu Inbal, the TSO’s Conductor Laureate.

In celebration of Bruckner’s bicentennial birth anniversary, the TSO organised a series of concerts featuring four of Bruckner’s symphonies. I had missed the first concerts, and only learned about them in time for the final performance, which featured Symphony No. 6.

As with the other concerts, a guest musician was invited to perform during the first part of the evening. In this final performance, the Czech violinist Josef Špaček presents Felix Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor, op. 64, setting the stage for the main focus of the night.

With his violin as his magic wand, the Czech violinist’s sound shimmers like a fine strand of transparent silk, allowing light to shine through. Acting as the weft, he weaves a mesmerising fabric of sound with the orchestra. At times, his violin produces such delicate tones that it felt as if walking on fine hair.

After receiving fervent applause from the audience, Špaček treats us to two encores, both by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750). The first is the Partita for Violin Solo No. 3 in E Major, BWV 1006: III. Gavotte en Rondeau, transporting me into a medieval town frozen in time, delicate as if encased in ice yet weighty with its history. With effortless grace, the violinist guides us through the town’s cobblestone streets devoid of citizens, through its winding alleyways, finally arriving at the pulse of the town — its cathedral, rising to the apex of its dome.

The second encore, Partita for Violin Solo No. 2 in D Minor, BWV 1004: III. Sarabanda, continues this journey through the medieval town. Despite being an unaccompanied violin piece, I get the illusion as if I’m being baptised by the cathedral’s organ pipes, its textures enriched by intricate arpeggios echoing throughout the sanctuary.

Like most of the audience, I’m thoroughly satisfied with the first part of the concert, unaware of the adventure that lies ahead.

Czech violinist Josef Špaček captivates the audience in Taiwan with his virtuosic techniques and the mellifluous sound of his violin. Image courtesy of Taipei Symphony Orchestra

After a brief 15-minute intermission, the lights in the auditorium dims as the orchestra prepares for Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No.6.

Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No. 6 in A Major holds a special place in his body of work, yet the composer himself never heard the complete symphony performed in his lifetime.

When it premiered in Vienna in 1883, only two movements were presented. The full symphony had to wait until 1899, three years after Bruckner’s death, for Gustav Mahler to conduct its first complete performance in Vienna.

Bruckner composed Symphony No. 6 between 1879 and 1881 and, notably, this version is considered the definitive edition of the symphony. Unlike many of his other symphonies, which he revised multiple times in response to criticism or personal reasons, Symphony No. 6 remained largely unchanged from its original conception.

Symphony No. 6 is structured in four movements.

The first movement, Majestoso, opens with bold sweeping themes and intricate orchestration. As I listen to this first movement, it evokes in my mind a testament to human exploration — the innate curiosity and relentless drive to ascend ever higher. It reminds me of the ambition that propelled the construction of the Tower of Babel, a symbolic endeavour to reach the heavens.

In more contemporary terms, it conjures images of rockets launching into space, fueled by the desire to explore the vast universe. This thrill of venturing into the unknown, driven by an unwavering passion born of pure curiosity and intent, leaves me in awe.

The symphony continues with the Adagio, its second movement, which envelopes the air with a slow and contemplative ambience. At times, I could envision a space shuttle drifting freely in outer space, unbound by the gravitational confines that fine Earth’s physical reality.

The emotion, amplified by the strings and brass instruments, deepens and intensifies, gradually easing as wind instruments softly joins in, evoking a sense of weightlessness. The space shuttle drifts farther and farther away, eventually disappearing into the distance.

Following the journey of the space shuttle, it gently lands on a foreign planet, tiptoeing as the third movement, Scherzo, unfolds. Its lively and rhythmic cadence contrasts with the Trio that follows, vividly delineating the alien geography, climate, and species encountered on this land of the unknown.

Czech violinist Josef Špaček and conductor Eliahu Inbal take their bows after the first half of the concert. Image courtesy of the Taipei Symphony Orchestra.

The Finale presents a complex and dynamic conclusion that revisits themes from earlier movements. Criticisms have been raised regarding this last movement, with some suggesting that its orchestration is overwhelmingly complex, while others feel it lacks the cohesive balance found in other parts of the symphony, leading to an unclear and less satisfying resolution.

While all of these criticisms may hold weight, their validity ultimately depends on the audience’s perception. Personally, I understand the direction these critiques take, yet I’m more intrigued by delving into the reasons why Bruckner decided to compose his final movement in this particular manner.

While deeply influenced by composers such as Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) and Richard Wagner (1813-1883), Bruckner also drew inspiration from nature. Could his rendition of the final movement mirror the diversity and dynamism of nature? I pondered.

In an interview, Eliahu Inbal, an internationally-recognised authority on Bruckner’s music, emphasised the importance of sound in Bruckner’s compositions. “Bruckner created a brand new world of musical sound. His music seems to come from another realm. Don’t be afraid if you don’t fully understand it…. Gradually, you will come to understand it,” Inbal said in an encouraging tone.

On another note, I must admit that I was deeply impressed by the Taipei Symphony Orchestra’s performance. Under the baton of Eliahu Inbal, the orchestra played with remarkable cohesion, showcasing distinct contrasts and powerful interplay between the strings and brass instruments, as if engaging in articulate conversations with one another.

While I have heard recordings of Bruckner’s Symphony No. 6 performed by the Berliner Philharmoniker and Mariss Jansons from 2022, listening to it live is undoubtedly a wholly new and quite enjoyable experience.

Have you ever attended a concert featuring Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No. 6? Share your thoughts in the comment box below!

The Taipei Symphony Orchestra presented Eliahu Inbal and Josef Špaček as part of its “Bruckner 200” concert series, held at the National Concert Hall on June 14, 2024.