Herbert von Karajan was an Austrian conductor. He was principal conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic for 34 years. During the Nazi era, he debuted at the Salzburg Festival, with the Vienna Philharmonic, the Berlin Philharmonic, and during World War II he conducted at the Berlin State Opera. Generally regarded as one of the greatest conductors of the 20th century, he was a controversial but dominant figure in European classical music from the mid-1950s until his death. Part of the reason for this was the large number of recordings he made and their prominence during his lifetime. By one estimate, he was the top-selling classical music recording artist of all time, having sold an estimated 200 million records.
There are many very good recordings of this music, but few truly great ones, and even fewer that make the music sound new (and old–more on that anon). This certainly is one of them, the finest disc of Carmen and L'Arlésienne suites since Markevitch with the Lamoureux Orchestra. Marc Minkowski offers the standard L'Arlésienne suites, plus a selection of the original incidental music shorn of the tiny bits of fragmentary fluff that make hearing the complete score such a frustrating experience. This permits the most complete appreciation of Bizet's genius thus far available on disc in this particular work. The Carmen music includes the prelude and standard entr'actes, with a reprise of the prelude to round off the proceedings. It's all so intelligent and enjoyable for home listening.
Better still, using period-ish instruments, Minkowski achieves a truly "French" sound, perhaps for the first time on disc since the 1950s or '60s. The compact ensemble sonority, pert winds, bright brass, and slightly wiry strings restore to the music so much of its innate vividness. Listen to the high-kicking brass in the Carmen Prelude, or the rhythmic "ping" that Minkowski brings to the Carillon in L'Arlésienne. Then there's the wonderfully touching but never sticky Adagietto and a closing Farandole that brings a genuine physical thrill to the program's conclusion (and you get to hear the music's first version, with voices, from Bizet's theatrical score). Perfectly natural sonics present the whole program with tactile immediacy, and the deluxe booklet is magnificent. You're going to love this. [5/12/2008]–David Hurwitz
At around autumn 1809, the management of Vienna’s imperial Hofburg Theatre commissions Beethoven to compose the incidental music for Goethe’s play Egmont, which premiered in Mainz in 1789. The plot of this tragedy is very much in keeping with the patriotic trend: it is set in Brussels, which is threatened by Spanish troops, and focuses on resistance against oppression and foreign rule. The hero, Egmont, places too much trust in the common sense and discretion of those in power – and this is his tragic mistake. In good faith, he allows himself to be lured into a deadly trap by the sinister Duke Alba, to whom he even explains his ideals of freedom and just rule. His lover Klärchen fails to persuade the cowardly citizens of Brussels to take violent action to free him, and, in her desperation, she commits suicide. What remains is the vision of a future freedom and victory – one that appears to Egmont in the form of Klärchen as he awaits execution in his dungeon.