Richard Bammer: German Masters and Spanish Flavors in the Music Temples

A Journey Through German Romantic-Era Music

For the past 35 years, I've had the privilege of attending classical music concerts in Vacaville and the greater Bay Area. Over time, I've become deeply familiar with German Romantic-era music from the early to late 19th century. This period, often referred to as the Roaring 1800s, includes the works of Beethoven, Brahms, and Wagner, whose compositions have consistently appeared on concert programs at venues such as the Vacaville Performing Arts Theatre, Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco, and David Geffen Hall in Lincoln Center in New York City.

The music of this era has always resonated with me on both an emotional and intellectual level. From Beethoven's triumphant "Choral" Symphony, his ninth and final work, to Brahms' heart-throbbing Symphony No. 4 and Wagner's expansive four-opera "Ring" cycle based on Nordic myths, these pieces have left a lasting impact on me. Each time I leave a concert hall or opera house, I feel transformed by the experience, as if I've been touched by the undeniable power of music to elevate the human spirit.

Wagner's operas, in particular, are known for their length—some stretching over four hours. I often joke that it's best to watch the "Buns of Steel" video before settling into your seat for one of his productions. However, the experience is always worth it, even if it takes a bit of endurance.

The Legacy of Beethoven

My journey through this music began with Beethoven, as Wagner himself noted in "The Art Work of the Future," where he compared Beethoven's music to "the boundless sea of Christian longing." This description may seem a bit poetic, especially considering Wagner's own complicated history, including financial struggles, anti-Semitic views, and personal indiscretions.

Despite this, Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 remains one of the most recognizable pieces of classical music. Its opening motif—three short notes and one long one—has become synonymous with fate. Interestingly, this same rhythm was used in Morse Code as a symbol of victory during World War II. Even Judge Judy Sheindlin has used it as an opening theme in her courtroom shows. The four-note motif is sometimes interpreted as "fate knocking at the door," a phrase that carries a weighty connotation.

On November 1, I had the opportunity to hear Beethoven's Fifth Symphony conducted by Eun Sun Kim, the music director of the San Francisco Opera. The performance took place at the War Memorial Opera House and offered a deeply satisfying interpretation of the 1808 piece.

A Unique Orchestra Configuration

One of the first things I noticed about the performance was the orchestra's configuration, which placed the bass violins on the left and the high strings on both sides. Initially, I was unsure about the effectiveness of this setup, but after 45 minutes of listening, I was convinced that the sound quality was among the best I've ever heard at the Opera House. Despite the three-sided stage, which might have posed acoustical challenges, the musicians delivered a powerful and cohesive performance.

Kim's interpretation of the symphony highlighted the first movement's driving energy, a supple take on the second melancholy and staid movement, and a subtle transition to the fourth movement, which featured a march-like fervor in C major. The piece exemplified Beethoven's recurring theme of triumph over tragedy, a reflection of his personal struggle with increasing deafness.

Spanish Influence and Emotional Depth

The first half of the November 1 program included two works by Spanish composer Manuel de Falla: "Seven Popular Spanish Songs" and the second suite from "The Three-Cornered Hat." These pieces represented early 20th-century music that incorporated native folk songs, music-hall tunes, ragtime, and jazz into classical contexts. This marked a departure from the dominant German influence that had shaped European concert halls for over a century.

The performance featured Daniela Mack, a mezzo-soprano whose creamy vocals were a balm to the ear. Her interpretation of "Asturian Song" and "Polo" brought a sense of warmth and emotion to the audience, particularly with lyrics like "Cursed be love, / and cursed be the one / who made me understand it."

Wagner’s Parsifal and Spiritual Reflections

The second half of the program was dedicated to Wagner's Parsifal, a new production at the San Francisco Opera that continues until November 13. This opera, based on Wolfram von Eschenbach's 12th-century story, explores themes of religious rite, enlightenment, and compassion. The production, directed by Matthew Ozawa and featuring choreography by Rena Butler, offers a nearly five-hour experience that feels more like a spiritual ritual than a traditional opera.

The music is characterized by massive, Wagnerian sonorities that occasionally reach spine-tingling climaxes under Kim's conducting. The central image of the Grail, historically associated with Christ's blood, is complemented by the Buddhist concept of "enlightenment through compassion," a theme expressed in the German libretto.

The story follows Amfortas, the wounded guardian of the Grail, and his journey toward redemption. His suffering is juxtaposed with the presence of Kundry, a heathen healer cursed to be a seductress. The opera also features Klingsor, a vengeful magician who seeks to destroy the brotherhood of knights.

A Profound Experience

While Parsifal may not explicitly mention Christianity, its themes of ritual and transformation left a profound impression on me. Wagner's forward-looking harmonies and abstract expressionist approach influenced the radical transformation of early 20th-century music. At the end of the performance, I found myself reflecting on the opera as a version of the Black Mass, a ritual that satirizes the Catholic Mass.

Yet, despite this interpretation, Wagner's music resonated with me on a spiritual level, offering a glimpse into the composer's complex life and inner struggles. It was a powerful reminder of the enduring impact of art and the depth of human experience.