Post by darkehmen on Feb 2, 2008 10:22:52 GMT 1
These sorts of lists should be "top 10s," but I just couldn't whittle down my favourites to any less than 12. Actually, I love all of the Telemondial films -- and many of the Unitel videos too -- so this is simply a matter of choosing the very best of the best, when there really are no bad choices.
The following are my selections, and I imagine that others will have different choices, so I'd love to hear them. I am evaluating these first and foremost as film experiences (which is why, even though I'm prepared to accept, for example, that Rostropovich is a better cellist than Meneses, I still far prefer the 1986 Don Quixote to the 1975 Unitel video, because the Telemondial version is an infinitely more sophisticated and revealing film). It's also why there are so few Beethoven works listed in the top choices. Although I consider the Beethoven's symphonies superior to most of the works listed above them, as films I find the following selections more visually intriguing.
First of all, here are a few general thoughts about the Telemondial productions. I find it remarkable how they manage to vary the look of the Philharmonie (and even the Musikverein) from video to video. Much of it has to do with the different colour schemes -- e.g., the film of the Beethoven 9th has a slightly bluish tint, the Verdi Requiem a reddish hue, the Beethoven 5th a white look, etc..
I am forever impressed by the fact that Karajan had an overarching idea of the entire series. He knew that most listeners would begin by buying the Beethoven symphonies, and would proceed from there. In the Beethoven films, he establishes a groundwork of basic shots that become familiar to the viewer, so that in later films when he departs from these shots, or adds new ones, the viewer is struck by them.
It also fascinates me how Karajan "holds back" certain shots (opposite angles of the orchestra, for example), so that when they do appear, they make a substantial impact.
I love how visually beautiful the films are, with the balletic arrangement of the musicians, the light glinting off the flutes and brass, the backlighting, etc. One could view them without sound, and admire them on cinematography alone.
The compositions of the inserted shots are brilliant. A trombone, for example, looks like a perfectly ordinary instrument when it is seen head-on. But when it is filmed in the Telemondial manner, with the bell placed up front in the frame, looming large, it seems monumental, befitting its sonority. Likewise the timpani -- when one zooms in on their beating drumsticks, they take on a great visual power, matching their mighty sound. Seeing the timpani from far away in a video, the way most concert films present them, dilutes the effect.
It's amazing to see exactly which combinations of instruments are playing at any given time. Much clearer than a general shot of a whole wind or brass section, in Karajan's groupings the players appear as they are needed (i.e., as they become involved in the music-making) and then vanish when they are not in action. When one sees four trumpets, three trombones, and a timpani in a shot, one knows that a deep, rich climax is playing, whereas just one or two trumpets in a shot indicates a tighter, smaller sound.
But perhaps the most interesting discovery in these films is the chance to see "the deep breath before the plunge," to borrow a LOTR phrase -- the tension before the strike, in other words. It's akin to the "bomb theory" of filmmaking: If an audience knows that an explosion is about to occur, they feel tension and suspense in that moment of foreknowledge, as well as subsequently experiencing the impact of the explosive force. Without this foreknowledge, they only feel a brief shock at the explosion, but nothing else. Likewise, if one hears a chord erupt out of nowhere in an audio-only recording, it is merely a surprise. But in the Telemondial films, when one sees Karajan raising his baton, or the orchestra members tensing up before a great tutti, one feels an almost electric anticipation before the forthcoming chord plays. It adds an entirely new dimension to the listening experience.
Now, without further ado, here are my choices:
1. Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0006IINWS/
Yes, I consider this the best of all of Karajan's films. It's a visual tour de force, with a staggering variety of unique orchestral instruments appearing ("Oh, so that's what makes that sound.") In the grand finale, the Great Gate of Kiev, you see a perfect example of Karajan's control of a climax, as he holds back the orchestra at the beginning of this mighty segment, and only unleashes them at the very end. When the cymbals crash at the climaxes, they look like waves crashing together, with golden light spilling off of them like sunlit water. But the most spectacular of all moments is the colossal bell sounding at the end (surely the most majestic percussion instrument ever to appear in an orchestral work), which the player is shown striking with mighty force. Both sonically and visually, this is the ne plus ultra of "demo discs."
2. Bruckner: Symphony No. 8 (Telemondial 1988)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0007TFHD4/
Justly considered one of Karajan's best audio recordings, the film version takes this reading to a whole other level. It more than does justice to the soundtrack, and fully captures the mighty grandeur of this symphony. The close-ups of the double timpani are especially thrilling, as are the tremendous groupings of the brass forces. The cymbal crash at the absolute climax of the Adagio movement stops your heart. It seems to be the climax not just of this symphony, but of Karajan's entire body of filmed work. The way in which the conductor almost physically pulls the orchestra out of the silence that follows shortly afterwards, bodily moving the music as if it were some colossal force, is a wonder to behold.
3. Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1573301329/
By far the greatest of Karajan's Beethoven films. One sees here the significant advances in film technique that distinguish the later productions from the earlier ones. Particularly thrilling is the dynamic cutting of shots in the second (Scherzo) movement, and the thundering timpani in the opening and the climax of the first movement. Karajan was known for conducting with his eyes closed, but in one instance during the fourth movement the camera catches him with his blue eyes wide open and blazing, encouraging the choir, and the look is both thrilling and terrifying; truly hypnotic. An extraordinary moment comes deep into the fourth movement, when the choir sings a particularly celestial strain, and the camera catches the lights of the Philharmonie shining overhead (while Karajan conducts below), looking for all the world like the stars in the heavens, and suggesting that the conductor has taken the music to a higher plane of existence.
4. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben (Telemondial 1985)
tinyurl.com/2b7tj7
This film has no end of fascinating moments. It's revealing, especially to a non-musician such as myself, to see Karajan beating time through the silences that separate the mighty chords toward the end of the opening section. It makes these silence not separate blocks, but a part of the living flow of music. Also fascinating is the sepulchral lighting of the instruments during The Hero's Adversaries, suggesting the benighted state of these critics. I love the tiny instrument groups that appear just prior to, and at the beginning of, The Hero's Battlefield, which visually suggest that the trumpets are playing from a far distance. Later in the Battlefield, it's thrilling to see the martial appearance of the row of percussion instruments. Arranged in this fashion, they resemble an artillery position, emphasizing Strauss's own metaphor associating artistic triumphs with a military campaign. The cymbal crash at the climax of the Battlefield is similarly exciting. The timpani beats near the concluding section of the work, appearing in a silhoutted overlay, seem like a fading pulse. The different ways in which the trombones are filmed is significant -- their bells are seen in close-up when they augment the general brass-section sound, while they are filmed alone and from a greater distance when they are responsible for the most important theme being played.
5. Debussy: La Mer, Prelude a l'apres-midi d'un faune; Ravel: Daphnis & Chloe (Telemondial 1985)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000056MOS/
Impressionism is an acquired taste, but it's the cinematic elements in this video that earn it such a high ranking. There are countless fascinating discoveries in this film, such as seeing the wide variety of different mutes that the brass instruments use. At one point in La Mer, the camera catches the second violins playing in an undulating motion that genuinely resembles the waves of the sea. Fascinating moments include tiny shots of cellos and violins silhouetted in the background as the flute solo plays, during the Prelude; the many creative harp shots; and a moment near the climax of the Daphnis & Chloe suite when the timpani is beating so quickly that the drumsticks look like rotating helicopter blades. Although Karajan is known for conducting in sweeping strokes, in the finale of Daphnis & Chloe it's interesting to see him beating a very precise time indication, as he rarely does, except when the largest orchestral forces are deployed. And in this work, those forces are large indeed; the camera displays an entire line of percussion instruments, no less numerous than a brass or woodwind section.
6. Strauss: Don Quixote (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0007TFHCU/
As I mentioned above, I prefer this to Karajan's Unitel production of Don Quixote. It's a far more complex and revealing film, and much more visually beautiful. The lighting makes this performance a kind of night-piece. It's fascinating to see the astonishing variety of instruments (many of which I can't even name) that produce the diverse sounds in this intricate tone poem. The highlight of the film is surely the Battle with the Sheep, which becomes a visual as well as sonic confrontation of instruments, a series of rapidly-blending shots that are chaotic yet controlled -- surely the effect that the conductor intended. The Joust with the Knight of the Pale Moon is another powerful sequence, with the silhouetted timpani beats creating a martial effect, underscoring the composer's intentions. This film contains the only solo double-bass shot in the entire Telemondial series; and another point of interest from the same section of the orchestra comes near the end, as the double-bassists drag their bows across their strings in a ragged manner to indicate Quixote's death. From an audio perspective, the film explodes the myth that Karajan "smooths over" rough edges -- the braying brass in the Battle with the Sheep are fully discordant and dissonant, without being vulgar. It's an endlessly fascinating film.
7. Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 (Telemondial 1982)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00000K4ZX/
Although the films improved steadily over the course of their creation, this early video earns its high ranking through the incredibly exciting and complex cutting of the first movement, which fully captures the relentless energy of the music itself. An especially gripping moment is seeing the bow of the first violin beating at the corner of the frame -- "like an oscilloscope," as HvK himself put it -- while the full orchestra plays. Karajan doesn't just conduct this movement, he lives it, channeling all of the composer's rage, and one has the sense that if Beethoven ever conducted this furious piece, he would have conducted it exactly as Karajan does.
8. Strauss: Eine Alpensinfonie (Telemondial 1983)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00007CVRI/
The finest of Karajan's live films (directed by his video collaborator Ernst Wild), this document records an unforgettable performance of Strauss's most imposing tone poem. Fine moments include the thunderous timpani-playing at the launch of the Storm sequence; the cymbal crash at the climax of the work in Auf dem Gipfel; the silhouetted close-up of the bell of a barely-audible tuba during the grumbling opening sequence; the sight of a young violinist playing for his dear life during one of the tuttis; and a rare glimpse of the charming Sabine Meyer. This is anything but a case of "set them in motion and let them go" -- one sees Karajan carefully shepherding the orchestra through the difficult passages, and pulling out every last ounce of energy from his musicians as the work nears its finale.
9. Tschaikowsky: Symphony No. 6 (Telemondial 1984)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0000639FB/
The march movement in this film is one of the highlights of the entire Telemondial series, as brilliant in its editing as is the 1st movement of Beethoven's Fifth, or the 2nd movement of Beethoven's Ninth. The instruments appear to be waging a war against each other. Note how the musicians lunge forward as they play their parts. The crashing cymbals are like artillery explosions. A shot capturing the fully-massed forces of the Vienna brass, above the timpani, is verily like a gun emplacement, or the trumpets of the heavenly host. In a signal example of Karajan's conducting technique, he backs the orchestra off at first, backs them off until unleashing them at full force at the movement's peak. Karajan may today be known as the conductor of great Adagios, but for me he has always been, and continues to be, the master of the powerful Allegro, and the 3rd movement in this film illustrates the dynamism of his interpretations of the great fast movements in the classical repertory.
10. Beethoven: Overtures (Telemondial 1985)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00122DV4M/
Fans who have been waiting 15 years for this film are in for a treat. As a relatively mature Telemondial film, it surpasses many of the Beethoven symphony productions in visual interest. I don't want to give away any of the surprises for those who haven't seen it yet (which I'm assuming is almost everyone), but you'll find it well worth the (long) wait.
11. Live in Osaka (Telemondial 1984)
tinyurl.com/yq3oz3
It's a thrill to see this live concert, as this is Karajan's only filmed Don Juan and Pines of Rome, and the only Pines of Rome that we have in digital. It's also interesting to see a film from a different hall than the usual Philharmonie or the Musikverein. The musical sweep of this Don Juan is simply incredible, and the Pines is a fascinating work to see as well as hear. A particular effective shot is the close-up of the gong that sounds near the end of the suitably sepulchral catacombs sequence. The only drawback is the very live audience, which emits distracting coughs during the hushed moments. At one point, one can even clearly hear the very loud snap of an eyeglass-case closing. Such background noises are truly unfortunate, and mar an otherwise brilliant film.
12. New Year's Concert from Vienna (Telemondial 1987)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1573301310/
This is a film of endless variety, from the solo by Kathleen Battle to the dance numbers to the Lippenzaner sequence and so forth. Priceless moments include Karajan's pretending to be "shot" at the conclusion of Under Donner und Blitz, and his conducting the audience -- really conducting them -- during the Radetzky Marsch.
And for good measure . . .
BEST CHORAL VIDEO:
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00005NKSG/
Here I decline to choose a best, since the Telemondial Missa Solemnis remains to be seen, and I have a hunch that it could be spectacular. Of those that are available, the Verdi Requiem has the most visual interest, with its intense and dramatic Dies Irae. The Coronation Mass has the added thrill of the Vatican setting. And the Mozart Requiem, as the last of the choral films, is the most accomplished cinematically -- the choir is most beautifully lit, and the obtrusive standing microphones that appear in earlier videos have been removed.
BEST OPERA VIDEO:
Das Rheingold
www.amazon.ca/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000YD7S12/
I generally prefer the Telemondial approach to filming operas in the Grosses Festspielhaus in Salzburg over the studio method (seen in Carmen, Otello, etc.); and of the four Telemondial operas, my favourite is Don Carlos, with its spectacular auto-da-fe scene. However, as Karajan's only Wagner on film, and as a powerful aesthetic statement about the Ring, Das Rheingold remains my favourite Karajan opera video.
Well, those are my own preferences. I'd love to hear all of yours . . .
The following are my selections, and I imagine that others will have different choices, so I'd love to hear them. I am evaluating these first and foremost as film experiences (which is why, even though I'm prepared to accept, for example, that Rostropovich is a better cellist than Meneses, I still far prefer the 1986 Don Quixote to the 1975 Unitel video, because the Telemondial version is an infinitely more sophisticated and revealing film). It's also why there are so few Beethoven works listed in the top choices. Although I consider the Beethoven's symphonies superior to most of the works listed above them, as films I find the following selections more visually intriguing.
First of all, here are a few general thoughts about the Telemondial productions. I find it remarkable how they manage to vary the look of the Philharmonie (and even the Musikverein) from video to video. Much of it has to do with the different colour schemes -- e.g., the film of the Beethoven 9th has a slightly bluish tint, the Verdi Requiem a reddish hue, the Beethoven 5th a white look, etc..
I am forever impressed by the fact that Karajan had an overarching idea of the entire series. He knew that most listeners would begin by buying the Beethoven symphonies, and would proceed from there. In the Beethoven films, he establishes a groundwork of basic shots that become familiar to the viewer, so that in later films when he departs from these shots, or adds new ones, the viewer is struck by them.
It also fascinates me how Karajan "holds back" certain shots (opposite angles of the orchestra, for example), so that when they do appear, they make a substantial impact.
I love how visually beautiful the films are, with the balletic arrangement of the musicians, the light glinting off the flutes and brass, the backlighting, etc. One could view them without sound, and admire them on cinematography alone.
The compositions of the inserted shots are brilliant. A trombone, for example, looks like a perfectly ordinary instrument when it is seen head-on. But when it is filmed in the Telemondial manner, with the bell placed up front in the frame, looming large, it seems monumental, befitting its sonority. Likewise the timpani -- when one zooms in on their beating drumsticks, they take on a great visual power, matching their mighty sound. Seeing the timpani from far away in a video, the way most concert films present them, dilutes the effect.
It's amazing to see exactly which combinations of instruments are playing at any given time. Much clearer than a general shot of a whole wind or brass section, in Karajan's groupings the players appear as they are needed (i.e., as they become involved in the music-making) and then vanish when they are not in action. When one sees four trumpets, three trombones, and a timpani in a shot, one knows that a deep, rich climax is playing, whereas just one or two trumpets in a shot indicates a tighter, smaller sound.
But perhaps the most interesting discovery in these films is the chance to see "the deep breath before the plunge," to borrow a LOTR phrase -- the tension before the strike, in other words. It's akin to the "bomb theory" of filmmaking: If an audience knows that an explosion is about to occur, they feel tension and suspense in that moment of foreknowledge, as well as subsequently experiencing the impact of the explosive force. Without this foreknowledge, they only feel a brief shock at the explosion, but nothing else. Likewise, if one hears a chord erupt out of nowhere in an audio-only recording, it is merely a surprise. But in the Telemondial films, when one sees Karajan raising his baton, or the orchestra members tensing up before a great tutti, one feels an almost electric anticipation before the forthcoming chord plays. It adds an entirely new dimension to the listening experience.
Now, without further ado, here are my choices:
1. Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0006IINWS/Yes, I consider this the best of all of Karajan's films. It's a visual tour de force, with a staggering variety of unique orchestral instruments appearing ("Oh, so that's what makes that sound.") In the grand finale, the Great Gate of Kiev, you see a perfect example of Karajan's control of a climax, as he holds back the orchestra at the beginning of this mighty segment, and only unleashes them at the very end. When the cymbals crash at the climaxes, they look like waves crashing together, with golden light spilling off of them like sunlit water. But the most spectacular of all moments is the colossal bell sounding at the end (surely the most majestic percussion instrument ever to appear in an orchestral work), which the player is shown striking with mighty force. Both sonically and visually, this is the ne plus ultra of "demo discs."
2. Bruckner: Symphony No. 8 (Telemondial 1988)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0007TFHD4/Justly considered one of Karajan's best audio recordings, the film version takes this reading to a whole other level. It more than does justice to the soundtrack, and fully captures the mighty grandeur of this symphony. The close-ups of the double timpani are especially thrilling, as are the tremendous groupings of the brass forces. The cymbal crash at the absolute climax of the Adagio movement stops your heart. It seems to be the climax not just of this symphony, but of Karajan's entire body of filmed work. The way in which the conductor almost physically pulls the orchestra out of the silence that follows shortly afterwards, bodily moving the music as if it were some colossal force, is a wonder to behold.
3. Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1573301329/By far the greatest of Karajan's Beethoven films. One sees here the significant advances in film technique that distinguish the later productions from the earlier ones. Particularly thrilling is the dynamic cutting of shots in the second (Scherzo) movement, and the thundering timpani in the opening and the climax of the first movement. Karajan was known for conducting with his eyes closed, but in one instance during the fourth movement the camera catches him with his blue eyes wide open and blazing, encouraging the choir, and the look is both thrilling and terrifying; truly hypnotic. An extraordinary moment comes deep into the fourth movement, when the choir sings a particularly celestial strain, and the camera catches the lights of the Philharmonie shining overhead (while Karajan conducts below), looking for all the world like the stars in the heavens, and suggesting that the conductor has taken the music to a higher plane of existence.
4. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben (Telemondial 1985)
tinyurl.com/2b7tj7This film has no end of fascinating moments. It's revealing, especially to a non-musician such as myself, to see Karajan beating time through the silences that separate the mighty chords toward the end of the opening section. It makes these silence not separate blocks, but a part of the living flow of music. Also fascinating is the sepulchral lighting of the instruments during The Hero's Adversaries, suggesting the benighted state of these critics. I love the tiny instrument groups that appear just prior to, and at the beginning of, The Hero's Battlefield, which visually suggest that the trumpets are playing from a far distance. Later in the Battlefield, it's thrilling to see the martial appearance of the row of percussion instruments. Arranged in this fashion, they resemble an artillery position, emphasizing Strauss's own metaphor associating artistic triumphs with a military campaign. The cymbal crash at the climax of the Battlefield is similarly exciting. The timpani beats near the concluding section of the work, appearing in a silhoutted overlay, seem like a fading pulse. The different ways in which the trombones are filmed is significant -- their bells are seen in close-up when they augment the general brass-section sound, while they are filmed alone and from a greater distance when they are responsible for the most important theme being played.
5. Debussy: La Mer, Prelude a l'apres-midi d'un faune; Ravel: Daphnis & Chloe (Telemondial 1985)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000056MOS/Impressionism is an acquired taste, but it's the cinematic elements in this video that earn it such a high ranking. There are countless fascinating discoveries in this film, such as seeing the wide variety of different mutes that the brass instruments use. At one point in La Mer, the camera catches the second violins playing in an undulating motion that genuinely resembles the waves of the sea. Fascinating moments include tiny shots of cellos and violins silhouetted in the background as the flute solo plays, during the Prelude; the many creative harp shots; and a moment near the climax of the Daphnis & Chloe suite when the timpani is beating so quickly that the drumsticks look like rotating helicopter blades. Although Karajan is known for conducting in sweeping strokes, in the finale of Daphnis & Chloe it's interesting to see him beating a very precise time indication, as he rarely does, except when the largest orchestral forces are deployed. And in this work, those forces are large indeed; the camera displays an entire line of percussion instruments, no less numerous than a brass or woodwind section.
6. Strauss: Don Quixote (Telemondial 1986)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0007TFHCU/As I mentioned above, I prefer this to Karajan's Unitel production of Don Quixote. It's a far more complex and revealing film, and much more visually beautiful. The lighting makes this performance a kind of night-piece. It's fascinating to see the astonishing variety of instruments (many of which I can't even name) that produce the diverse sounds in this intricate tone poem. The highlight of the film is surely the Battle with the Sheep, which becomes a visual as well as sonic confrontation of instruments, a series of rapidly-blending shots that are chaotic yet controlled -- surely the effect that the conductor intended. The Joust with the Knight of the Pale Moon is another powerful sequence, with the silhouetted timpani beats creating a martial effect, underscoring the composer's intentions. This film contains the only solo double-bass shot in the entire Telemondial series; and another point of interest from the same section of the orchestra comes near the end, as the double-bassists drag their bows across their strings in a ragged manner to indicate Quixote's death. From an audio perspective, the film explodes the myth that Karajan "smooths over" rough edges -- the braying brass in the Battle with the Sheep are fully discordant and dissonant, without being vulgar. It's an endlessly fascinating film.
7. Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 (Telemondial 1982)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00000K4ZX/Although the films improved steadily over the course of their creation, this early video earns its high ranking through the incredibly exciting and complex cutting of the first movement, which fully captures the relentless energy of the music itself. An especially gripping moment is seeing the bow of the first violin beating at the corner of the frame -- "like an oscilloscope," as HvK himself put it -- while the full orchestra plays. Karajan doesn't just conduct this movement, he lives it, channeling all of the composer's rage, and one has the sense that if Beethoven ever conducted this furious piece, he would have conducted it exactly as Karajan does.
8. Strauss: Eine Alpensinfonie (Telemondial 1983)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00007CVRI/The finest of Karajan's live films (directed by his video collaborator Ernst Wild), this document records an unforgettable performance of Strauss's most imposing tone poem. Fine moments include the thunderous timpani-playing at the launch of the Storm sequence; the cymbal crash at the climax of the work in Auf dem Gipfel; the silhouetted close-up of the bell of a barely-audible tuba during the grumbling opening sequence; the sight of a young violinist playing for his dear life during one of the tuttis; and a rare glimpse of the charming Sabine Meyer. This is anything but a case of "set them in motion and let them go" -- one sees Karajan carefully shepherding the orchestra through the difficult passages, and pulling out every last ounce of energy from his musicians as the work nears its finale.
9. Tschaikowsky: Symphony No. 6 (Telemondial 1984)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0000639FB/The march movement in this film is one of the highlights of the entire Telemondial series, as brilliant in its editing as is the 1st movement of Beethoven's Fifth, or the 2nd movement of Beethoven's Ninth. The instruments appear to be waging a war against each other. Note how the musicians lunge forward as they play their parts. The crashing cymbals are like artillery explosions. A shot capturing the fully-massed forces of the Vienna brass, above the timpani, is verily like a gun emplacement, or the trumpets of the heavenly host. In a signal example of Karajan's conducting technique, he backs the orchestra off at first, backs them off until unleashing them at full force at the movement's peak. Karajan may today be known as the conductor of great Adagios, but for me he has always been, and continues to be, the master of the powerful Allegro, and the 3rd movement in this film illustrates the dynamism of his interpretations of the great fast movements in the classical repertory.
10. Beethoven: Overtures (Telemondial 1985)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00122DV4M/
Fans who have been waiting 15 years for this film are in for a treat. As a relatively mature Telemondial film, it surpasses many of the Beethoven symphony productions in visual interest. I don't want to give away any of the surprises for those who haven't seen it yet (which I'm assuming is almost everyone), but you'll find it well worth the (long) wait.
11. Live in Osaka (Telemondial 1984)
tinyurl.com/yq3oz3It's a thrill to see this live concert, as this is Karajan's only filmed Don Juan and Pines of Rome, and the only Pines of Rome that we have in digital. It's also interesting to see a film from a different hall than the usual Philharmonie or the Musikverein. The musical sweep of this Don Juan is simply incredible, and the Pines is a fascinating work to see as well as hear. A particular effective shot is the close-up of the gong that sounds near the end of the suitably sepulchral catacombs sequence. The only drawback is the very live audience, which emits distracting coughs during the hushed moments. At one point, one can even clearly hear the very loud snap of an eyeglass-case closing. Such background noises are truly unfortunate, and mar an otherwise brilliant film.
12. New Year's Concert from Vienna (Telemondial 1987)
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1573301310/This is a film of endless variety, from the solo by Kathleen Battle to the dance numbers to the Lippenzaner sequence and so forth. Priceless moments include Karajan's pretending to be "shot" at the conclusion of Under Donner und Blitz, and his conducting the audience -- really conducting them -- during the Radetzky Marsch.
And for good measure . . .
BEST CHORAL VIDEO:
www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00005NKSG/Here I decline to choose a best, since the Telemondial Missa Solemnis remains to be seen, and I have a hunch that it could be spectacular. Of those that are available, the Verdi Requiem has the most visual interest, with its intense and dramatic Dies Irae. The Coronation Mass has the added thrill of the Vatican setting. And the Mozart Requiem, as the last of the choral films, is the most accomplished cinematically -- the choir is most beautifully lit, and the obtrusive standing microphones that appear in earlier videos have been removed.
BEST OPERA VIDEO:
Das Rheingold
www.amazon.ca/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000YD7S12/I generally prefer the Telemondial approach to filming operas in the Grosses Festspielhaus in Salzburg over the studio method (seen in Carmen, Otello, etc.); and of the four Telemondial operas, my favourite is Don Carlos, with its spectacular auto-da-fe scene. However, as Karajan's only Wagner on film, and as a powerful aesthetic statement about the Ring, Das Rheingold remains my favourite Karajan opera video.
Well, those are my own preferences. I'd love to hear all of yours . . .
