April 24--Basking in the burnished glow of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra's performance of Anton Bruckner's monumental Eighth Symphony on Thursday night at Symphony Orchestra, one found it hard to believe this was long thought to be a problem piece.
So problematic, in fact, that the announced CSO premiere in 1897 was changed to an "easier" Bruckner symphony to spare listeners the alleged musical idiosyncrasies of No. 8.
By now, of course, familiarity and the championing of many generations of podium advocates have made audiences appreciate those idiosyncrasies as the Austrian composer's greatest strengths as a symphonist.
Thus has Bruckner's last completed symphony taken its rightful place in the standard symphonic canon, although only the mightiest of orchestras can climb this symphonic Everest without mishap and make the 80-minute journey feel not only triumphant but transcendent.
The Chicago musicians did so on Thursday night, overcoming, under Bychkov's firm yet flexible guidance, technical difficulties that would defeat lesser orchestras. If this Bruckner -- which is concluding the Russian guest conductor's two-week engagement this weekend -- was perhaps less inspired than the very best Bruckner Eighths the CSO has done in recent decades, it drew superb playing from the CSO and proved to be a gripping experience.
Conductors are fairly evenly divided between those who favor the 1890 revised version of the work as edited by Robert Haas (a hybrid edition that restores material Bruckner cut when preparing his final version of the score), and those who opt for Leopold Nowak's edition of the 1890 revision (now widely believed to represent the composer's final intentions).
The pros and cons are far too complicated to go into here and, in any case, would be irrelevant to all but musicologists. The bottom line is that a fine performance can sweep aside scholarly considerations, as this one did.
For the record, Bychkov, like Georg Solti and Bernard Haitink before him here, conducted the Nowak edition of the 1890 revision. In an interview earlier this week, however, he expressed no strong preference for one edition over the other. "One has to make an arbitrary choice, but it is no guarantee of anything," he said. While the Nowak is "maybe the most laconic" version, "I don't feel there is only one right way. If I could play (both editions) in one performance, that would be very interesting."
Bychkov made a steady underlying pulse his touchstone in building this great cathedral of sound stone by stone, layer by layer. In the opening movement in particular, his control of tempo, within every bar as well as every long paragraph, heightened the sense of striving through long stretches of minor-key uncertainty. The music flowed effortlessly, without having to be pushed impatiently or without becalming forward motion in an overly loving embrace.
The pounding scherzo also unfolded at a moderate pace, Bychkov uncovering inner voices that often go for naught -- an oboe figure here, a horn countermelody there.
The long adagio, the greatest slow movement in any Bruckner symphony, took on a gentle intensity by virtue of Bychkov's huge dynamic scale (from an ethereal hush to the biggest, but not blasting, fortissimos) and his deft balancing of malleable strings, articulate woodwinds and fortress-like brass and timpani, cushioned by the warmth of the four Wagner tubas.
The triumph of the finale was won with absolute integrity: The uncommon discipline and beauty of the orchestra's playing worked hand in glove with the conductor's clear vision of where Bruckner's music was headed, and how best to get there.
An audience that listened with rapt silence throughout the performance gave Bychkov and the orchestra a loud ovation at the end.
The program will be repeated at 8 p.m. Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday at Symphony Center, 220 S. Michigan Ave.; $33-$209; 312-294-3000, cso.org.
Von Rhein is a Tribune critic.
jvonrhein@tribpub.com
