BOSTON — The Boston Symphony Orchestra is not selling the Pathways of Romanticism streaming concert series as an epilogue to their recent Spirit of Beethoven series, but it’s hard to imagine a more appropriate follow-up to Beethoven than the Brahms and Schumann pieces featured in the series’ first episode, especially when Andris Nelsons is conducting. The special chemistry between the Latvian conductor and the musicians of the BSO continues, undisturbed by face masks, distanced on-stage seating, and other vagaries of infectious global calamity. And, not rarely, the magic comes across more vividly on video than in person. Episode 1 of Pathways to Romanticism streams through May 15 (requires a BSO login).
Johannes Brahms’s Serenade No. 2 in A, Op. 16, has at times been regarded as a mere exercise in orchestration — a practice run for the daunting task of following in Beethoven’s footsteps and composing great symphonies. Funny thing is, the piece is actually more satisfying than many symphonies, delivering, as it does, measure after measure of classic Brahmsian melody, harmony, and rhythmic sleight of hand — much like his symphonies, but simpler and with more transparent textures. Brahms certainly is recognizable in this sunny music, but perhaps not so familiar that you can’t experience it with fresh ears. And the point of doing so? Besides sheer enjoyment, it’s to remember that by the time Brahms published the great, signature works that made his reputation, his contemporaries had long seen him as a talent of immense promise. So, listening to his serenades today, we can hear for ourselves why composer Robert Schumann — a leading music critic of his day — needed only one meeting with Brahms to proclaim the 20-year-old a genius and heir to Beethoven’s musical legacy. Schumann’s Symphony No. 4 in D minor, Op. 120, follows the Brahms serenade.
The BSO’s playing in this concert suggests that with each performance, the musicians are getting the hang of distanced seating a little bit more. To say they are getting comfortable, however, would probably be stretching the truth. After all, they are engaged in something akin to a death-defying high-wire act. To manage it, they must reprogram their brains in order to lock onto Nelsons’ baton while ignoring every mistimed sound wave that reaches their ears. But this is basically impossible; it fractures a musician’s psychoacoustic equilibrium. So how they pull it off is a mystery. They were trained to achieve perfect ensemble by listening to one another and using their peripheral vision. Now they have to use a whole new set of cues, and it’s a miracle every time they make it work.
