Herbert von Karajan has always been a controversial figure, lambasted by
some, adored by others, but generally respected as a musician of outstanding
professional integrity and impeccable ability. It is this conclusion that
passes through Richard Osborne's magnificent biography, a true monument of
scholarship and fastidiously researched detail. The first chapters are
unremarkable but the narrative is always interesting even if it has to do
with describing Heribert von Karajan's domineering mother. As we move on
to the first days at Ulm, it is always clear that here was a man who knew
he wanted to be the best, and the way he conducts his business is already
astonishingly mature. Aachen beckoned and here Osborne recalls with his
inimitable penchant, that Karajan plied his trade and learned all the tricks
in the process, at less than thirty he was already master of his art. But
fate was to deal a cruel blow when the young conductor applied for Party
membership in the Germany of the Nazis. That stigma was to stay throughout
his entire life and it brought him absolutely nothing in return. For after
leaving Ulm, Karajan was to stay in a no-mans land, endlessly drifting almost
to the point of breakdown. It took some outstanding friends of the likes
of Raffaelo de Banfield to drive the gremlins away, that is until Walter
Legge found Karajan in Vienna in 1946. The Vienna series of recordings are
legendary and they are accorded full detail with some interesting anecdotes
that put us deep into the world of what bureaucracy can mean. After Vienna,
it was on to London and the Philharmonia. In my mind, this is the most exciting
chapter of the book as we learn of the various trials and tribulations that
permeated this magnificent artistic partnership. For a start, Osborne is
at pains to point out that this was the first series of exemplary recordings
made exclusively for the gramophone, and what recordings they were! As the
uncharacteristically brusque and dandy like figure of Andre' Mattoni began
to dominate the scene, we also sense a whiff of greed creeping into the
conductor. This is also the time of Furtwangler's demise and of Karajan's
power brokering in Berlin and Salzburg, and as Osborne notes, no other artistic
figure was more capable at negotiating a better deal for himself. As Berlin
beckoned, Karajan kept on dilly-dallying with EMI just to defect for a ten
year period of glory with DG, a period in which some of his most outstanding
recordings were made. The reader will relish the incredible regime that Karajan
set himself, sessions, concerts and all the rest just packed into one really
incredible life. Karajn's women are also given their due but thankfully neither
Anita von Karajan or Eliette Mouret are allowed to break the narrative down.
As the years rolled by, Karajan became more affable as some European stints
and artistic discoveries (Anne Sophie Mutter et al) were landed. Michel Glotz
is also an important presence as are EMI and the fairy-tale episode with
the Staatskapelle 'Meistersinger'. Karajan's advocacy of all things modern
shows in his fascination for fast cars, something which he shared with Dennis
Brain (the Autocar episode is hilarious) and his race against time to make
digital versions of most of the repertoire is also a poignant moment in the
book. Relationships are too numerous to mention here but Callas and most
of all Sibelius played an important part in the conductor's artistic life,
indeed the latter's music was to haunt Karajan for almost two decades. There
are a number of highly intriguing plates with the conductor's life appearing
as if on a silver platter. Two appendixes dealing with rehearsals and post-War
depositions are essential accompaniments. Osborne's narrative attempts to
quell the Nazi stigma, and if not laying the ghosts to rest, we are at least
left with a man who was definitely hounded and shelved by the same autocrats.
'Rough it may be, boring never' would be most readers' afterthoughts but
after listening to the end of the Adagio from Mahler's Ninth, the conductor
would say to Glotz: 'It is music coming from another world, it is coming
from eternity'. The oracle of music could hardly have spoken better.
Herbert Von Karajan: Selected recordings:
Balakirev: Symphony No. 1, Roussel: Symphony No. 4: PhilharmoniaOrchestra
EMI Mono (1949)
Sibelius: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5, Finlandia Philharmonia Orchestra EMI
Mono (1953/54)
Beethoven: Nine Symphonies BerlinerPhilharmoniker Deutsche Gramophone (1961/62)
Bruckner: Symphony No. 8 Wiener Philharmoniker Deutsche Gramophone (1988)
Reviewer
Gerald Fenech
Gerald Fenech presents: 'Karajan' - a programme covering the three major
recording periods in Vienna, London and Berlin every Sunday at 14.00 PM on
FM Bronja 91.7 FM Stereo. (Repeat: Monday 18.30PM)
