Firing up Beethoven at Tanglewood with Yefim Bronfman, Andris Nelsons, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra
- Seth Lachterman
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
Tanglewood Music Festival
The George W. and Florence N. Adams Concert
Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO)
Andris Nelsons, conductor
Yefim Bronfman, piano
Sunday, July 6, 2025
Koussevitzky Music Shed
Lenox, MA
All-Beethoven Program
Leonore Overture No. 2, Opus 72a
Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Opus 37
Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Opus 67
Encore
Sergei Rachmaninoff, Prelude in G minor, Opus 23, No. 5
Firing up Beethoven at Tanglewood with Yefim Bronfman, Andris Nelsons, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra
There has been a yearly tradition of paying tribute to the most iconic symphonic composer in the Western canon. The BSO has been praised for performances of Mahler, the twentieth-century modern composers, both French and Russian. It has also been esteemed its interpretation of works of Mozart, Brahms, and Schubert. However, the most familiar symphonic work on earth, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, should never be underestimated nor ignored. It stands as one of the most important symphonic statements and defines the spirit of the early Romantic era. Seemingly a “warhorse,” Andris Nelsons gave us the most spirited, rhythmically punctuated performance that I’ve heard in many years.
The riveting and tenacious first movement with the all-important four-note motto is followed by a gracious set of variations punctuated by a pompous march theme. The ensuing scherzo, thematically linked to the first movement, diverges widely from the erstwhile classical standard of a dance-based menuetto. Starting with a stealthy and furtive theme, we hear the motto vehemently stated by horns in the third movement. The triumphant and ebullient finale succeeds in bringing this work to a joyful C major conclusion. Throughout, Mr. Nelsons gave an edge-of-the-seat performance, followed by the audience’s abundant ovations.
The concert opened with a wonderful performance of the Leonore Overture No. 2, the most interesting and expressive of Beethoven’s four overtures for Fidelio. In C major, rising from the evocative and haunting introduction based on a descending scale, a lively syncopated allegro paints some of the opera’s action: the distant trumpet fanfare signaling the minister’s arrival that saves our heroes.

Following the Leonore overture, the BSO performed Beethoven’s third piano concerto, also in the manic key of C minor, with soloist Yefim Bronfman. It may be that this concerto is really the closest to Beethoven’s temperament: He had heard Mozart’s K.491 in C minor, which apparently motivated the composer to equal it in color, drive, mood, and key, all while putting his unique, dynamic take on it. The opening theme of both concerti are remarkably similar, and both draw on the timpani to further darken the mood and give a martial tint to the movement. Beethoven’s work, though, is suffused with an almost harrowing drive, restless alternations between major and minor, and is capped with a cadenza that befits the work’s esteem as ushering in the Romantic era. Mozart’s work, on the other hand, is bathed in an unmistakable graceful melancholy that keeps all fury at bay.
A powerful delivery of an early nineteenth-century work, such as Beethoven’s third piano concerto, calls for a more restrained dynamic range than, say, in works of the later part of the century. Bronfman’s appearance and bearing invariably gives one an impression of great power. Yes, he can, when needed, apply thunderous clout to the keys. However, in my experience of hearing him in public, despite his formidability, I find much gradation and subtlety of touch appropriately applied. When I heard him as a soloist playing the work with the Vienna Philharmonic, I was taken by the way Bronfman held his considerable resources in reserve; he let Beethoven’s energies reign without Rachmaninoff-like passion and rhetoric. Bronfman holds the concerto in great esteem, as he states before a concert with the Toronto Symphony on YouTube. Today’s performance, on a sweltering July day, I thought displayed, at times, a perceived imbalance between Nelson’s overly expansive fortes and Bronfman’s desire to hold back. This disparity seemed to be corrected after the first movement.

The flying passagework all through the concerto balanced the grand flourishes and darkly fateful statements. In the first movement, martial rhythms pervade, yielding occasionally to the tender second subject. The movement concludes with a monumental cadenza trailing off to rhythmic pulses and echoes between piano and timpani. The second movement, in the highly unusual key of E major, is the expressive jewel of this work and both the conductor and the pianist revealed the poignancy and dignity of the fluid melodic lines and harmonic twists as they unfurled. The movement, to my ears, foreshadows the great slow movements of Beethoven’s late sonatas. The final movement, a rondo, was a tour de force. A haunting C minor first theme coupled with a cheerful E major second theme begins and hosts a whirlwind of soaring transitions, a fugato, and another episode in the very odd key of E major. After the final return to C minor, a concluding cadenza ushers in a jolly C major coda which caught cheers all around.
For his encore, Mr. Bronfman chose the well-known Rachmaninoff G minor prelude which gradually gathers the kind of mighty muscle that we’ve waited for from our soloist.
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