And Beethoven smiled

On October 23 of last year, Philippe Herreweghe gave a Beethoven concert in front of the Orchestre des Champs-Élysées. Then I wrote One of the strategies I use when writing reviews from the Palau de la Música is to observe Beethoven's expression, perched to one side of the stage: if he smiles, it means the concert went well or very well. And on that occasion, I commented that he had only half-smiled.

On Thursday, however, the laughter was timid, because the Parisian band's performance was not only excellent, but Herreweghe, who had seemed somewhat uninspired at the October concert, now appeared fully committed to the cause.

The program couldn't have been more stimulating: the symphonies Second and Octave (rarely produced, yet of the same qualitative standard as the most celebrated) and the Piano Concerto No. 4, entrusted to a splendid soloist, Kristian Bezuidenhout, in front of a fortepianoThe model, which is not listed in the program notes (something that would be advisable for another occasion), was performed by the South African-born musician. He displayed total commitment to a work that was daring in its structural and harmonic conception, with the necessary contrasts and dreamlike fingerwork throughout the three movements.

An inspired Herreweghe conducted the two symphonies with a measured but clear gesture, the orchestra's sound occasionally muddy at the end of some movements (the first of the Second or the fourth of the OctaveBut always with skillful and well-planned dialogues between sections: dreamy woodwinds, impeccably tuned brass, and supple phrasing from the strings reigned over the performance of the two symphonies, with particularly intense moments such as the first movement of the Octave or the delightful, Haydn-esque second movement of the Second.

It was curious that, as is increasingly common, a certain segment of the audience applauded between movements. The custom is gradually taking hold. Were they tourists? Or perhaps the first wave of visitors? In any case, it's possible that this practice will eventually prevail, much to the despair of the purists: in Mozart's time—and even Beethoven's—people applauded not only between movements but also during them. Of course, there was no mobile phone pandemic back then, and everyone benefited.