Beethoven's half-smile at the Palau de la Música

I don't think I've ever confessed the strategy I use when writing my reviews of concerts at the Palau de la Música. It's very simple: just look at the bust of Beethoven perched on the right wall of the stage and observe his expression. If he remains serious (or downright angry), it means things haven't gone well. If, on the other hand, he smiles, a good review is in order because it means the maestro from Bonn enjoyed the concert. Things get more complicated if the evening includes his music, and that was the case with Thursday's concert.

Philippe Herreweghe's experience is a given, and at this point, the flamenco musician has nothing to prove to anyone. And the Orchestre des Champs-Élysées is a solid ensemble, standing on its own, well-oiled in its sections and with a successful combination of wind and woodwind, not to mention a robust and highly capable string team.

On paper, therefore, and with a program no less interesting for being more popular, things should be going well, and one expected a wide, bewildered Beethoven-like smile on his plaster face. But, glancing at him out of the corner of one's eye, only a half-smile was visible.

Obviously, he would like, as in his time, a group of spectators – coming from the back of the second floor – to insist on applauding in the middle of all the movements of the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies. Perhaps someone should explain to him that these things are no longer popular, and that surely that portion of the public didn't attend the Palau for the intrinsic interest of the scores, but rather to hear a concert in the modernist venue.

But this is it. What surely prevented a smile from ear to ear was the excessive contrast of very correct, technically flawless performances in the symphony. Pastoral (and with some false entries in the Fifth), but lacking in spirit and romantic discourse.

From the heights of plaster and brick, Beethoven must have seen with some compassion (and, therefore, with much understanding) the elderly gesture of the conductor, imprecise in his instructions, and supported by Alessandro Moccia, the concertmaster of the orchestra. Herreweghe is more than amortized in the context of the "philological" readings and has already said everything he had to say, even though he's performing with such an orchestra.